


The Knights of Sanicure

by Okamidragon



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, Original Character(s), Original Fiction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:40:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 29,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26278051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Okamidragon/pseuds/Okamidragon
Summary: Some legends are better left dormant.Marvin, a proud knight of Cyndonia, sets off to uncover the Celestial and Divine Stones of Sanicure. All seems well until a mysterious group of knights from a fallen kingdom appears, wielding the very stones he was sent to find. To reclaim the stones and return them to their proper place, Marvin must face the truth about Sanicure and the lies that plague every legend. If he can't, it will be more than Cyndonia that will be lost.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 2





	1. Prologue

_The eagle will fall._

_The wind will die with it._

_The mighty guardian of the sea will vanish._

_The oceans will dry up._

_The phoenix that guards the earth's eternal flame will turn to ash._

_Earth's fire will fade into embers._

_The wolf will sound his final howl, singing a mournful song to his brothers._

_The earth will no longer be able to sustain life. Its spirit ruined in everlasting pain._

_The Dragon of Darkness will spread his mighty wings, blocking the sun from lighting the earth._

_The Lion of Light will roar a final time,_

_The light he brings will disappear._

_All will be lost to eternal darkness._

_The wings of the angels will turn old and ragged._

_The people will cry out for the angels to help them, but they will only turn their faces away._

_Who can possibly save those who are blind and cannot see?_

_How can you save those from death, when no one is willing to face death head-on?_

_Who is there to lead the lost?_

_The world will be consumed by its own greed._

_People will destroy the gift that was given to them in their hatred._

_Many will simply give up. Wailing in their sorrow._

_Turn away from their brothers and sisters,_

_Just as the angels have turned away from them._

_But you..._

_You will not give up._

_You will call out to those who will listen._

_Your voice is a whisper in the wind._

_You alone will raise the eagle._

_You will call out to the sea,_

_Awakening the clouds to let go of their overbearing load._

_Their tears will give life to the guardian of the sea._

_You will relight the fire within the souls of those who look to you._

_Their flames lighting a way, giving hope to the lost._

_Your faith will breathe life into the ash, raising the phoenix._

_You alone will approach the wolf,_

_Echoing the sad song he sings._

_He will draw strength from you, the one who sees him._

_You will call out to the fallen warriors. You will approach your faithful servants._

_You will remind them that only together may they overcome grief and hatred._

_You will shield them from the dark,_

_And strike down those who may threaten them._

_Death himself may not come against you,_

_For your hope and love will make you invisible to him._

_You alone will call to the Lion of Light._

_Returning the power which darkness stole from him._

_Together, you and your people will rise up against the Dragon of Darkness._

_Tearing at his winds, allowing the sun to warm the earth._

_Strike his head, make him bow._

_Remind him that while he snarls, roars, and blows dark flames your way,_

_You are stronger._

_He cannot harm you._

_You alone will calm the darkness, making him a friend to the light._

_You alone can save._

_You alone are the one my heart calls to._


	2. Mercy

Adair brought his fist down against the throne's armrest. All he could see was red as he looked at his so-called 'advisors.'

The fat one, with the obvious double chin and no neck, dotted his head with his handkerchief. Obviously uncomfortable at having to share the news with his majesty that the council had decided against sending the Knights of the Dragon's Keep back out to the Sanicurian ruins, he averted his gaze. 

"Your majesty, if I may," said the crafty one of the group. His beady eyes and scruffy face, which was long and pointed like a ferret's, began. "We should really be focusing our attention on the uprisings in both Univa and Sunfall." 

Adair turned his gaze on the man. His advisor, taking a deep breath continued, "if we continue to let these two towns throw their voices around, it may encourage other dissenters. I know you are worried about the kingdom's security, concerning the Celestial and Divine stones of Sanicure, but sir, this is a more pressing concern."

"A real threat," chirped the fat man.

Adair sighed and rubbed his forehead. He was dealing with simpletons. If he didn't need these fools familys' influence and money, then perhaps he would have gotten rid of them long ago.

Looking to the guard standing at the door, Adair ordered, "bring Marvin in."

"Yes, your majesty," the guardsman answered, bowing his head. He then opened the door and disappeared on the other side, coming back with Marvin at his heels.

Marvin walked past the councilmen and stood before Adair. Slowly, he kneeled. His head bowed. "Yes, your majesty?"

"I have an assignment for the knights of the Dragon's Keep. We are going to kill two birds with one stone, as they say. You will take your group up to the town of Univa and remind Sir Wellington and his men how to keep the townspeople in order. I will not tolerate dissension in my kingdom."

Marvin nodded and looked up at the king. "And the second bird, your grace?" Marvin's emerald eyes were locked on Adair. The light of the candles causing shadows to caress the sides of his face, highlighting the light shiny skin of the scar that ran along his jawline.

"The second bird is heading west to the ruins of Sanicure. I want you to try once more to find any trace of the Celestial and Divine Stones."

Marvin didn't say anything though Adair could feel his disbelief.

"This is poppycock," one of the advisors, this one a short dwarf of a man, yelled out. "If those stones still existed anywhere but myth, surely they would have been found by now."

Gritting his teeth, Adair tried to control his temper. It was unsightly for a king to lose his cool, as his father used to tell him and his brother. Then again, his father never had to deal with simple-minded nitwits as these. "They are real....is proof what you want?

"If you could offer some proof, we might see the need to agree with you," the ferret spoke up.

Adair thought for a moment. A smile spread across his lips as he looked to Marvin, "bring that prisoner you caught last week trying to steal bread from the market."

"Marvin nodded, "as you wish, my lord." Rising, Marvin looked to the council, giving a slight bow to them out of respect before leaving the throne room.

Adair intertwined his fingers, listening to the sound of the door shut and the whisperings of his council. He wondered how they would feel in the presence of the Celestial Guardian of Darkness. He would know shortly.

***

Marvin exited the throne room. His pace quick. He made a point not to look at anyone waiting around in the audience chamber. He didn't have time for their idle chit-chat.

Walking with purpose, he strode down the long corridor. Dancing flames from the torches filled the corridor with dim light. The shadows danced around him.

Halfway down the hallway, leaning against a stone wall was Ethan, the youngest of the Knights of the Dragon's Keep. His blue eyes were wide with excitement and there was a bounce in his movements as he pushed himself off the wall and followed after Marvin. "Evening, Marvin," Ethan greeted heartily. He ran a hand through his blonde hair, combing it back so his bangs were out of his face.

"Evening, Ethan," Marvin greeted, not pausing his brisk pace.

"What work does the King have for us today?" Ethan questioned.

"Right now, he wants to see the prisoner we caught at the market trying to steal bread," Marvin replied. He pinched his lips together. _Adair was going to show them proof...and somehow the prisoner was going to be in the middle of it._

"For what?" Ethan scoffed, "that simple-minded bag of bones is not worth the air he breathes."

"Proof...of something," Marvin trailed off. His stomach sank. Adair was a strong ruler but he also bordered on the line of cruel at times. Marvin had seen and felt that firsthand.

"Shall I fetch him then?" Ethan questioned.

Marvin stopped. He absently traced the scar along his jawline. "Return here and allow me to deliver him to the throne room. I don't want you to face Adair's wrath. It seems he has been stressed as of late."

"What for? The Kingdom is at peace for the most part. I mean, there is Univa and Sunfall giving us a few problems but nothing that a quick slap on the wrist can't handle."

"The stones. The stones," Marvin shook his head.

"The stones?"

"Yes, the legendary Celestial and Divine Stones of Sanicure. You have heard of them, correct?" Marvin asked, looking at Ethan.

Ethan chuckled and then tilted his head. "Yes. I remember hearing about them when I was younger. They were but a myth, correct? Some tale spun by folk tellers."

"In folk tales there is always an echo of truth," Marvin said. "For the past seven years, the Dragon's Keep has been sent out to search the ruins of Sanicure for these stones. However, we have never found any evidence that they even existed."

"Perhaps the King has gone mad. Chasing a folktale." A deep frown was set on Ethan's face.

"No." Marvin shook his head, "I think he knows something we do not."

"Well, if he does, he will not keep it from us long. I will go fetch the prisoner and meet you back here," Ethan said. He turned and quickly set off towards the dungeon.

Marvin watched him go and looked at the shadows on the walls. "It is that revelation I fear the most."

***

Marvin didn't have to wait long for Ethan's return. The prisoner shuffled along behind him. The chains, bound on his wrists and tightly around his legs, made it difficult for the man to walk. Blood ran down his legs where the metal was digging into his skin. Each step had to be excruciating. Following behind the prisoner was another member of the Knights of the Dragon's Keep, Marcus. 

"Marvin, good day," the knight greeted, giving a slight nod to his commander.

"Evening Marcus," Marvin responded.

Marcus was slightly taller than Ethan. A head full of dark brown hair covered his head like a mop matching the bushy beard and mustache that crowned his face. Marcus took great pride in his beard and mustache, claiming that it was his pride as a man to which Ethan often retorted that it just made him look like a barbarian.

"Please, I was hungry. I didn't want to steal the bread. Honest. But what else was I supposed to do," the prisoner cried. The chains rattled as he shook.

"Shut up," Marcus snapped. The man, whimpering like a dog, cowered. 

"Come on," Marvin sighed, "we don't want to keep the king waiting." He glanced over the prisoner once more before turning away from him. He pitied the poor soul, but he wasn't about to say he was right for stealing.

They walked back to the throne room; the prisoner making quick prayers as his eyes darted to the various people standing in the audience chamber. As they paused, allowing the ushers to open the door, the prisoner whispered a plea to the officials. Marcus nudged the man with his foot to silence him.

Marvin took the chain lead from Ethan and led the man inside. Ethan and Marcus flanked him, discouraging any attempt to turn and run. Not that the man would be able to get far.

The council was seated on plush chairs against the lefthand wall, underneath the large stain glass windows that allowed light into the room. The sun, which was setting, cast its lazy rays of light through the glass. The dull shades of a rainbow of colors lit the floor, creating a path which the knights followed all the way up to the throne platform. Marvin stopped, his eyes resting on Adair whose expression was unreadable.

"Your majesty, here is the prisoner," Marvin announced. He bowed to his king, keeping a tight hold on the chains.

"Thank you, Marvin," Adair said as he rose. He quickly stepped down the three-step platform and walked past Marvin to stand right in front of the man. 

The light struck the sides of Adair's face, giving him a ghoulish appearance.

"King....my lord," the prisoner began, openly weeping. "Please, have mercy on your pitiful servant." He dropped to his knees with a groan of pain.

"Now, don't fear," Adair said, kneeling and placing his hand softly on the man's shoulder. He looked at the prisoner dead in the eye, studying him. A smile graced the king's lips but it made him look anything but happy. 

"You mean...you will forgive me?" the man questioned, not daring to look the king in the eyes.

"No," Adair said. "I need you. You see, my councilmen...my advisors, think I have gone mad. They do not believe that the Guardians of Sanicure live."

"Sanicure has fallen, my lord," the prisoner responded softly. "I know this. Everyone knows this."

"The kingdom may have fallen but the guardians still live. You will be my proof. You will be the sacrifice to the Guardian of Darkness."

"Sacrifice? For stealing bread?!" The man shrieked. Rising Adair began to pace around the room. The prisoner's eyes followed him.

"The stone around my neck," Adair stopped in front of his advisor's. He removed the thin chain from around his neck and held up the black dragon-shaped stone in the air, "is one of the two Celestial Stones of Sanicure."

The councilmen began to whisper. Marvin looked over at Ethan and Marcus who both looked bewildered and concern.

"You," Adair turned back, looking at the prisoner. "You will be the reason why Cyndonia lives. Why the darkness lives. Think of it as an honor. A sacrifice for God." The king's voice echoed off the walls. Everyone else fell silent.

"Sir..." the prisoner swallowed, looking over at Marvin. "I am not worthy. God knows...I am not worthy."

In a few short strides, Adair was face to face with the man. "Do not try to weasel yourself out of Darkness's hands. He will be honored to have a sinful and ugly soul, such as yours, to feast upon. You see, his ultimate master craves the villainy in your heart."

"But we strive for peace and honor," one of the councilmen, the short dwarf named Irwin, called out.

"We do," Adair didn't even look at his council. "But to do that we must rid our kingdom of the lowbrow trash that dares disturb it." The stone in the king's hand began to glow. A black aura surrounded him, moving and twisting like a giant serpent. "Arise," the Adair commanded, raising his hands into the air. "Shacor, the Guardian of Darkness. Unfold your mighty wings and accept the sacrifice I present to thee." The black aura shot towards the walls, merging the shadows that loomed there into its fold. A form began to manifest as the aura moved around the room. Demon red eyes appeared behind the king, glowing from the growing shadows. The councilmen were frozen. Ethan and Marcus fell to their knees. Marvin could only watch in horror as the eyes turned on him and the prisoner.

A deafening roar erupted from its mouth, shaking the walls.

Marvin felt his heart catch in his throat.

The darkness circled around the prisoner. The man began to scream. He begged for his life, pleading with the darkness that was wrapping around him. But it was too late. The darkness had him and swallowed him whole. The chains fell to the ground with a hollow clank. There was no trace of the man.


	3. Silent Whispers

Silence fell over the room as the dark aura retreated back into the stone.

Marvin felt the strength in his body fail, sending him down on one knee. His chest was tight. It was as if fear had taken away his ability to breathe. The pounding of his heart sounded in his ears like a panicked drum. Death had been right in front of him.

"Oh my god. Oh my god," Marvin heard one of the councilmen whimper.

Marvin forced himself to look behind him. The chains were laying on the ground, melted, and warped where they had touched the man's skin.

A shiver went through him as he looked past the chains to where Ethan and Marcus stood. Large eyes, gaping mouth, and clammy white skin. It was as if they were nothing more than chiseled stone.

With a chuckle, Adair stepped back towards Marvin, placing a hand on his knight's shoulder. "Do not fear, Marvin. Shacor will not strike unless I command him to."

"You have had that demon in this castle...in this kingdom..." Irwin stepped forward. His short stubby legs shaking so bad that the extra fat under his chin wobbled. But he held his ground. His dark green eyes held Marvin and Adair in his gaze. "And you never..."

"I never what?" Adair challenged, turning towards his council. "Am I not, as sovereign, appointed by God? Why would I need to explain myself to simpletons who cannot even take God's chosen's word as gospel?"

Irwin looked down at his feet.

"Now do you understand why it is the utmost importance that I obtain the last five stones?" Adair held the council's gaze then turned to Marvin.

"Yes, sire," Marvin replied. He swallowed and winced as he released the chains he had clenched in his left hand. They burned from the imprint left behind.

"We will give you funds for your journey, Knights of the Dragon's Keep," Lord Bucking, the ferret, announced. "My household will personally see to it," he added, hastily.

The king smiled widely as helped Marvin to his feet. Turning to Ethan and Marcus, he motioned them forward.

Marcus stumbled as he moved. He stopped shortly behind Marvin. His eyes never once left the ground. Ethan on the other hand remained frozen to his spot.

Adair cocked an eyebrow but didn't say anything to him. "You know your assignment, Marvin. You will head to the town of Univa first to put an end to the small rebellion that is happening there. Remind Sir Wellington, that fat oaf, of his duties to not only his people but my kingdom. If he does not comply, tell him that he will make a fine meal for my hounds."

 _Better to be fed to the hounds than that demon,_ Marvin thought but replied, "yes, my lord."

"May the Lord be with you," Adair muttered and then looked at Ethan, "all of you." Then with a wave of his hand, he signaled the knights to leave.

Marvin rose and motioned for Marcus to follow him. He stopped before Ethan and slowly knelt. His comrade's face was completely drained of color. Sweat covered his temples and his light blue eyes were glued on the spot where the chains had fallen. "Come, Ethan," Marvin said gently, placing his hand on his shoulder.

Ethan rose and shifted his gaze towards the councilmen. They were all staring at them, all with the same wide-eyed empty stare that Ethan had. Marvin nodded towards them and led Ethan outside, Marcus trailing behind them.

***

Red rays were cast lazily over the earth as the sun nestled beneath the horizon, preparing for the coming night. The training grounds were quiet and still, save for the lone warrior who stood with a bow in his hand. Dark brown eyes were locked on the quintain. Its body, made of a simple sandbag, had been torn from multiple attacks from arrows and throwing knives. The sand had escaped into a large pile at the target's base. The poor thing was sagging. Still, the knight chose this particular dummy for his assault. He removed an arrow from the quiver on his back and strung it on the bow. Pulling the string back, he took in a deep breath. He held this position, feeling the tenseness in his muscles and the fullness of his lungs. He zoned in on his target. He stayed this way until all the thoughts in his head cleared. The only thing present in his mind was where he wanted the arrow to go. Not even the soft breeze that brushed the grass beneath his feet caught his attention. With a sudden release of tension, the arrow soared through the air and struck the dummy with a hard thud. The warrior released his breath slowly watching as more sand began to leak from the new hole in the dummy's side.

"Nice shot," a voice broke through the quiet veil.

"Marvin," the warrior turned to face him. Marvin's armor was tinted a gentle purple and red. It highlighted the gold accents of the lion symbol on his breastplate.

"That would have been a fatal blow had it been on a real man," Marvin continued. He walked over to the dummy. Running his fingers over the hole, he admired the preciseness of the attack. Vukashin was well known for his skill with a bow.

Placing a hand on the rough fabric, Marvin pulled the shaft of the arrow, dislodging it from the dummy. A steady flow of sand came flowing out.

"What is it, Marvin? You and I both know you didn't come for small-talk," the knight responded gruffly. He put the bow over his shoulder and walked over to the wooden bench that stood behind him.

"The king has an assignment for us," Marvin answered. He placed his hand under the flow of sand, allowing it to pass in between his fingers. Vukashin turned his cold stare on Marvin, watching him curiously. "We will be meeting at the Fountain of Cornerstone tomorrow morning, be ready to leave by sunrise," Marvin finished as he brushed his hand off on his pants. He turned to look at his comrade. Vukashin's ebony skin blended him in with the growing darkness. If it wasn't for his white tunic, he might have completely disappeared into the night.

"What is the assignment?" Vukashin asked. He removed the quiver from his back and placed it on the bench.

"We are going to Univa to end a disturbance that has started there. A group of rebels is causing a stir," Marvin replied. He made his way over to Vukashin and handed the arrow back to him. "We will then head to the Sanicurian ruins and give one last look through to see if we can find any trace of the stones."

Vukashin rolled his eyes. "Some legends are meant to die, Marvin," the warrior said as he put the arrow back in the quiver.

"I agree," Marvin sighed. "But, in this case, I think Adair may be right about reviving them before another has the chance."

Vukashin arched an eyebrow but didn't press the issue. Instead, he said, "I will not disappoint you."

"I know you won't," Marvin said with a smile. He turned to leave, "sunrise, tomorrow at the Fountain of Cornerstone."

Vukashin watched him go. Once Marvin was gone, he looked back to the dummy, its body now completely folded in half from the lack of sand. Looking down at his bow he traced the wolf that was carved into the wood. It was his clan's symbol, the one who bore him and then gave him away. Though he had been raised in Cyndonia alongside Marvin, he still felt a strong haunting connection to his people. It was to facilitate peace that he was given away.

He huffed. Peace was short-lived. The nomadic tribes of Valente were hated by all the kingdoms. And though he was raised in these very walls, the citizens of Cyndonia saw him as one of the 'barbarians.' "If I fail Marvin, then I may as well accept their fate as nothing."

***

_Flames roared in their rage, engulfing everything in its path. People were scattering. Under the cover of the heavy smoke, lucid yellow eyes gleamed as they watched the petrified people._

_Heavy smoke covered the ruins of the palace. On the last standing guard tower sat a mighty being made out of a dark aura. Its blood-red eyes watched the chaos unfolding below it._

_A child ran from the flames, screaming for his mother. The demon on the tower roared out, shaking the ground and causing the child to stumble. The little boy, whose face was covered in ash, dirt, and tears, curled up into a ball, unable to go on._

_"Kill them! Kill them all!" the demon shouted._

_The yellowed eyes creatures shot out from the darkness, showing off their slick oily haired bodies. They opened their long jaws, revealing sharp teeth. The child, frozen in terror, could only look on in horror as these long snake-like creatures wrapped around him._

"Stop!" Marvin screamed, shooting upright in his bed. Sweat covered his brow. His breathing quick and panicked. He looked around the room, expecting to see those same yellow eyes staring at him. His skin crawled as fear and anxiety ran its fingers over his body. He no longer trusted the shadows on the wall or the dark of the night. Everything seemed to move. _I must be going crazy. The Guardian of Darkness is on our side._

Running a quick hand through his hair, he took a deep breath. Moonlight peered through the window, giving him a sliver of silver light to see by. Leaning back, Marvin looked out at the window where the stars danced across the expansive sky.

He breathed in slowly and counted to ten. Feeling a bit more relaxed, he allowed his eyes to close. Unfortunately, the prisoner's pleading cries echoed in his ears and the child's large eyes were burned into his memory. How he wished the day would come.


	4. A Knight's Promise

Whinnies and nickers greeted Marvin as he entered the royal stables. Silver moonlight drowned the floor as it poured through the glass panels on the ceiling. Some of the horses came to the doors of their stalls, poking their head through the opening to look at the knight as he passed. Marvin kept his gaze fixed forward. His horse was kept in the stall at the back, right next to the King's. 

The king's black destrier charged towards the front of his stall, as he often did, giving an angry grunt. His ears were flat against his head and his eyes wild.

Marvin stopped in front of him, looking the wild stallion in the eyes. "You are a surly one, aren't you?" The stallion snorted before returning to his hay.

With a tap on his own horse's stall, Marvin smiled widely as the white mare came over to him. He patted her soft nose. Her brown eyes stared deep into his, almost questioning why the knight was here before the sun was even up. 

"We have a long journey ahead of us," Marvin whispered, before kissing her nose. He then moved to the left of the stall door, where a large chest was kept. Opening it, he retrieved his saddle, bridle, and caparison. The caparison, a large black blanket with gold stitching, would protect his horse from any oncoming arrows and serve as identification. On one side was stitched the Cyndonian symbol, a dragon guarding a crown. On the other was a roaring lion, Marvin's personal crest. 

Soft thuds caught Marvin's attention. He turned his head to look behind him but saw nothing but the entrance to the stables and the few horses who were still watching him. 

Marvin carefully closed the chest, placing his items on top of it. Rising, he placed his hand on the hilt of his sword that was tied to his belt. Scanning the shadows, he heard and saw nothing more. _Perhaps my nerves are still raw from my encounter with the Celestial Guardian of Darkness._

Sighing, Marvin turned to pick up his belongings but froze once more. He could hear it closer now, the soft sound of bare feet hitting the floor. Someone was definitely in here with him. But who would be in the royal stables at this time of morning?

"Show yourself," Marvin commanded, his hand once again on the hilt of his blade.

"Oh, Sir Marvin," Sheldon, the stableboy, stepped into the light from behind an empty stall. In his hand was a shovel about as tall as he was. The child, who was no more than ten, gave Marvin a broad smile, showing off missing teeth and dimples. "I should have known it was you. At first, I thought it was one of the tribesmen..."

"Tribesmen?" Marvin arched an eyebrow. While it was true that Cyndonian guardsmen has reported the nomadic tribe of Vala being too close to the city, no one had been attacked. 

"I heard they were going to try and break into the city," Sheldon commented. "I vowed to protect the horses here with my life." He puffed out his chest and placed a hand over his heart. 

Marvin laughed, "I am sure the horses are happy to have such a brave warrior defending them."

Picking up his horse's tack, Marvin entered his horse's stall. Sheldon followed right behind him. "I didn't get time to change though," Sheldon said, smiling sheepishly. He kicked his small feet in the hay and looked down at his white nightgown.

Marvin smiled to himself as he put the saddle on his mare. "You came. That is what matters."

"I heard the creaking of the stable door," Sheldon said proudly. "Which isn't hard since my room is right above it."

As with all of Cyndonia's royal buildings, those who served often had housing near where their tasks would be. For Sheldon and his father, the royal stables had apartments built-in and furnished above where the horses slept. This allowed them to get to the horses quickly, should the need arise.

"Unfortunately, I don't think the tribesmen would be scared of me in my nightdress," Sheldon said sadly. "Wait till I am older, dressed in sparkling armor and armed with a sword." With effort, he raised his shovel over his head.

The white mare nickered nervously. "Easy, Orkid," Marvin said, stroking her long neck. "Sheldon is just showing off his strength."

Sheldon lowered the shovel, his cheeks turning pink but the smile never leaving his lips. "Sorry, Orkid." A moment of silence passed between them. Marvin could feel Sheldon's eyes running up and down him. Finally the boy asked quietly, "do you think I will be a knight someday?"

"Well, you would have to train under another knight as a squire," Marvin said thoughtfully. "Also, you would need the permission of your father to leave the service as a stablehand and onto protecting the kingdom."

Sheldon sighed. "I don't think he will ever let me leave."

Marvin finished putting on Orkid's bridle and then looked over to the boy.

"Ever since brother died, he told me that all my talks of knights were nothing more than a child's dream. It is time to wake up and realize that the horses are our family's calling." Sheldon looked at Marvin. "But...if you talked to him about me becoming your squire, I am sure he would listen. Everyone trusts you, Sir Marvin."

Marvin frowned. He wasn't so sure about that. Sheldon's father, Barrum, was a ruthless man and only showed his love for two things. The king and the horses. Everyone else he pretty much spat on.

Not only that, but only noble blood was allowed to be trained in the way of chivalry. Peasants, commoners, and even the king's servants were excluded from joining the ranks, so that would prove another challenge.

"Can you fetch the caparison? I left it on the chest," Marvin asked Sheldon.

He watched as the boy dropped the shovel, causing Orkid to throw her heard up and whinny. Sheldon hastily apologized before running out of the stall. He quickly returned carrying the large blanket in his arms. 

As Marvin took the blanket from the boy, he looked down at the lion symbol stitched onto the side. If the law had been enforced as it should, Marvin would never have become a knight himself. But it was the begging of one of the king's councilmen that allowed Marvin to be trained as a knight. Even Vukashin shouldn't have been allowed to be a knight, but Marvin had vouched for him. Who said the same thing couldn't happen for Sheldon? 

"I'll tell you what," Marvin said. He threw the blanket over his horse and fitted the openings between the saddle and the horse's head. "When I return, I will ask Adair if I can take you on as my new squire since I have finished training Ethan. Only then, with the King's word behind me, will I ask your father."

Sheldon hopped from one foot to the other, "I am going to be a knight!" He cheered.

The black destrier in the stall next to theirs gave an angry whinny, pawing the ground.

Marvin chuckled and gave one final tug on the latches of the caparison, making sure they were tight. He then led Orkid out of the stall, Sheldon walking on the other side of her. As they came to the entrance of the stables, Marvin paused to remove a silver coin from the change purse on his belt. He handed it to Sheldon. "Here."

"Sheldon looked down, confused, "ser?"

"Get yourself a lemon cake tomorrow. A squire has to keep his strength up but often times won't get the luxury of eating something so sweet. Enjoy it while you can. When I return, it will be nothing but hard work."

Sheldon gave a toothy grin and saluted, "yes, my lord." He gave a bow and watched as Marvin led Orkid out into the empty streets of Cyndonia.


	5. Stefan the Wise

A gentle breeze passed through the sleeping kingdom, ruffling Marvin's black hair as he rode through the still streets. Golden rays were peeking over the horizon, slowly painting the sky with rich oranges and bright blues. Dawn would be soon upon them.

He took a deep breath, tasting the cool crisp air that lingered from the night. Orkid's hooves gently tapped upon the cobblestone, giving a beat to the humming wind.

They passed by grand buildings made of stone and lumber. Gold finishes were set in the woodwork and around the stone, showing off Cyndonia's vast wealth. These buildings coiled around the castle, which sat in the center, like a snake to protect Cyndonia's most valuable asset, the king. However, not many enemies would find their way invading into Cyndonia as its city was protected by mighty stone walls that wrapped around the city's exterior. The wall was heavily guarded day and night.

Turning a corner, Marvin headed to Cyndonia's southern gates. His destination was right outside of the city, hidden in the woods that stretched out for miles past the kingdom's southern border. Among the houses owned by the Watchmen, a brave guild of knights that served as Cyndonia's first line of defense, he would find Stefan the Wise.

The old magician had taken his retirement in the midst of the trees, saying he felt closer to his spiritual element in nature. He had retired from public life when Marvin had been taken in as a squire. As Stefan said, the time for wizards and magic was fading. No sense in reminding people of when the Guardians walked the earth.

Golden dragon statues were the first sign that Marvin was near the gates. These dragons sat on either side of the watchtower and looked out over the land. Their wings were folded in, creating shields from which the knights could hide behind, should the southern border be attacked. The tails wrapped around the watchtowers, creating stairs with their spikes, leading down to the walkway on top of the walls. A knight patrolling the wall stopped immediately as he saw Marvin approaching.

He ran towards the large wheels which controlled the massive gates. He placed one hand on the wheel, waiting for Marvin to get closer. Once he was sure the knight could hear him, he called out, "Ser Marvin the Brave, what brings you out so early in the morning?"

"I am visiting an old friend," Marvin answered. "His majesty is sending the Knights of the Dragon's Keep out on an assignment. I want to make sure I bid him farewell before we leave. For if I don't, I fear I may never hear the end of it."

The knight nodded. "I hear you on that, it would be like me leaving without saying goodbye to my mum." With some effort, he began to turn the wheel, causing the gates to whine as they drew back, revealing the vast forests that stretched beyond. "Be alert out there," the knight called out as Marvin passed. "The Watchmen have reported tribesmen not too far from the Southern walls."

With a nod, Marvin encouraged his horse into a trot, leaving the city behind him.

The land passed around him in a see of rich greens, bright yellows, and a wide assortment of wildflowers and grasses. A small creek cut the road in half and was only connected by a wooden bridge. Marvin's horse, who had crossed the bridge many times, did so without a single thought.

Houses, built into the mighty trees of the forest, were starting to show signs of life. A Watchman came out of his home, putting on his gloves. He nodded to Marvin as he passed. Windows of the other houses were lighting up as candles were lit, driving away the darkness and revealing the moving shadows of the inhabitants.

Marvin pressed further into the forest. The birds were beginning to sing and twitter in the trees. The strong fresh scent of weeds and vines became stronger, mixing with the distinctive scent of pine.

A small clearing appeared on Marvin's right. Here, the vines and the foliage of the trees parted like a curtain, showing the humble cottage that sat in the center of the clearing. A small creek round its way around the home and continued on into the woods.

Marvin turned Orkid to head between the parting of the leaves and rode slowly up the small cleared path. A gray gelding stood under a small shelter. He merely raised his head, glancing lazily at Marvin and Orkid as they approached the house.

Dismounting, Marvin patted Orkid's neck before approaching the door to the cottage. Giving it a few quick knocks, he took a step back. His eyes traced over the wave pattern carved into the door, a light smile painting his lips. He had many adventures in this house. Chasing cats, throwing nuts to the squirrels, and dashing through the shadows of the trees. While the shadows never fought him back, he had received more than his fair share of scratches from the cats. Glancing down at his arms, he chuckled. A few of the old scars remained, faded but certainly not forgotten.

The door slowly cracked open, and a man well in his years peered out. Upon seeing Marvin, the door flew open and out stepped the old man, a smile brightening his wrinkled face. "Marvin, my boy," he greeted. He embraced Marvin in a hug and then stepped aside, allowing the knight entry into his home. "It has been a while...have you gotten taller?"

Marvin rolled his eyes and shook his head. "No. I was this height two weeks ago when I last saw you."

Stefan waved his hand, giving a huff. "That was only in passing. You should really come by and see me more often. No one likes to be forgotten, especially not his lonely old man."

Marvin arched an eyebrow. "How could I ever forget you, Stefan?" Sitting down on one of the wooden chairs that sat in front of the small stove, the knight sighed. "King Adair has been keeping me so busy as of late, it has been impossible to get away." He glanced over at Stefan who was still standing in the door. "How have you been, my friend?"

"Good, for an old man," Stefan answered closing the door behind him and walking over to the wood-stove. "I could make some tea for you, lad."

Marvin frowned, "as much as I would love to, I am not staying long. I just came to bid you farewell."

"Farewell? Where are you going?"

"The Knights of the Dragon's Keep is going to put an end to the uprising in Univa. Then," Marvin took a deep breath in, "we will be heading back to Sanicure to give one more look for the stones."

Stefan gave an exasperated sigh as he lit a match and threw it into the stove. The wood inside caught fire quickly, and warmth slowly spread throughout the small cottage. "He will never let the stones rest, will he?"

Marvin rose, unable to sit still any longer. He walked over to the bookshelf that was housed on the righthand wall. He ran his fingers over the spines of the books, "yes. It is as if he has become consumed by them."

A shiver ran down Marvin's spine. He couldn't tell Stefan of the creature that lived so close to their king nor of the sacrifice to the beast he was forced to witness alongside the council.

Stefan placed a kettle on the stovetop. Running his hand over the top of the kettle, a small stream of water slipped through the open window near his bed. The stream rushed over to the kettle, filling it.

"You have been to Sanicure, have you not?" Marvin questioned. "Before they fell, I mean."

"Oh yes," Stefan answered, placing the top back on the kettle. "Sanicure was breathtaking and the people who lived there were more than happy to call it home." Looking at Marvin, he added, "my journeys are all recorded, as you know, in those books on the shelf. Memories last a lot longer when they are written down."

"Did you know much about the stones? Or at least write about them?"

"A little..." Stefan turned from Marvin, wringing his hands together.

Marvin watched the old mage. The magician went to the window and looked out at his old horse. "Then," the knight continued, "you would know what the stones look like, or if there were any evidence they are being used elsewhere."

Stefan pressed his lips together. "Marvin..."

"You should accompany us. You would be able to travel again, as you used to. And with your knowledge and magic, we would be able to uncover the stones and finally put this mission to rest along with the king's fears."

"Marvin," Stefan repeated his name. "My mind may hunger for knowledge just as my heart hungers for adventure and companionship, but my body is just not what it used to be. Besides, I have retired from the public realm."

Marvin shook his head. "No. The journey we go on may be long, and you may not be the young man you once were, but I have seen your magic. You would not only be a valuable asset to my team in terms of your knowledge but you will also be an invaluable companion to have at our side. Please, Cyndonia needs you."

Stefan turned to look at Marvin, his expression unreadable. "I don't know, Marvin." The kettle began to shriek as steam rose up from its snout and curled up above it.

"The choice is yours," Marvin said calmly. He rose from the chair and approached Stefan. "If you decide to accompany the Knights of the Dragon's Keep, then meet us at the Fountain of Cornerstone in the next hour." He turned to the door and opened it. "Make sure to put the fire out when you are done with the stove. We don't need you burning the house down."

Stefan laughed. "I may be old Marvin but my mind is far from gone."

Marvin nodded and left the cottage. If he knew Stefan as well as he thought he did, he would see the old man soon.


	6. The Fountain of Cornerstone

Ethan finally knew what it meant to be boiled alive. He tugged at the collar of his chain-mail tunic. The armor was a heat trap. Looking up at the sky, he glared at the sun's unforgiving rays. The sun's gentle fingers brushed against the spray of water from the Fountain of Cornerstone, creating a rainbow of colors. 

Ethan rose from his position on the fountain's ledge and approached one of the large four trees that surrounded the fountain. He ran his hand along the oak tree's trunk, feeling as it softened in the center where the profile of a ram was carved into it. In it's swirling horn was engraved the word "honor." The ram was the sigil of the Crestars, the mighty mountain Kingdom situated in the north.

Ethan allowed his exhaustion to take over as he slid down the tree. He prayed the tree's shadow would save him from the sickening heat. "What is taking Marvin so long?" He grumbled. Sweat rolled down in beads on his face, stinging his eyes.

"Perhaps a pretty lass has caught his eye," Marcus answered. He was still sitting on the fountain's stone edge, running his fingers through the cool waters in its basin.

"No. Marvin is too dedicated to his work to get sidetracked by something as silly as a girl," Ethan scoffed. He looked over the busy Cyndonian streets, hoping to catch a glimpse of Marvin coming towards them. But he only saw the townspeople, heading about for their day's work. 

A father and his son passed by. The boy struggled with the mule attached to the plow. Tugging hard at the rope, the child grumbled at the mule. The stubborn animal merely shook his head and pulled back. His low braying went unnoticed by the father who kept walking, his thoughts trapping him in another world.

"True," Marcus sighed. Ethan looked at his companion, watching as his friend pulled off his helmet. Brown curly bangs stuck to his brow and his skin shined with perspiration. Setting the helmet beside him, he pushed it towards the basin's edge. The metal made an awful scraping sound against the marble. Ethan cringed. Marcus paused for a moment, looking at Ethan, "also, Marvin has no chance with a lady."

"What? Why? Marvin has a handsome face," Ethan remarked. He picked up a hand full of dry soil, curling his lips in disgust at how hot the grains were. Even the earth had no escape from the sun. "At least, that is what the ladies at court say," Ethan added, quickly.

Marcus chuckled, "it's because he does not have one of these." He proudly stroked his beard, smiling brightly as he did so.

Ethan shook his head, rolling his bright eyes. _He does not need the help of a dead rat on his face._ A light smile came across his lips. If only Marcus knew the things the ladies at court said about him and his beard.

The clip, clop, of horse feet caught Ethan's attention. He began to rise but quickly lowered himself again, groaning in frustration. It was only Vukashin, riding in on his black and white steed. He was clad in a black tunic with little chain mail over the breast and shoulders. Gold castings of wolves were situated on his gloves which reached to his forearms. On the chain-mail, on a small plate over his chest, was the Cyndonian symbol in silver.

Vukashin's personal seal, which was stitched onto the black caparison in green, was of a wolf holding a sword in his mouth. Ethan hated that symbol but would never tell that to Vukashin's face. The wolf was the symbol of the Rishka tribe, and Ethan would never understand why the knight held onto his sentiment towards them. They were nothing more than barbarians after all. Vukashin had been raised among the civil people.

Vukashin dismounted and led his horse over to the pine tree next to Ethan. Ethan's gold courser was tied to the same tree. Ethan's stallion raised his head, giving a loud whinny. Anxiously, he pulled against the reins so he could face Vukashin's steed. The black and white horse paid him no mind. Like his master, the horse rarely portrayed any sort of emotion.

"Good day," Ethan greeted him.

"Where is Marvin?" Vukashin questioned. Ethan felt his mouth twitch.

"We don't know," Marcus sighed. A splashing sound was followed by a yelp of excitement. Marcus's helmet plunged into the cool depths of the fountain. "How unfortunate," he said slowly. Putting his arm in the cold water, Marcus fished out his helmet. Careful not to allow the water to spill too much, he brought the helmet up and then dumped the cold water on his head.

Laughter, much like a child, filled the air as Marcus ran a hand through his mop of a mane. "That was enchanting," he said, brushing the wet bangs out of his face. His maple eyes glimmered with boyish delight.

Ethan shook his head, his mouth drawn down in a deep frown. "Marcus, you are one of the king's knights. Show some maturity," he scolded.

"Yes, mother," Marcus chuckled, flashing a sheepish grin. Ethan sneered back at him. His goofy bearded comrade sat the helmet next to him, humming an old tune. 

Besides Marcus's humming, a silence fell over the knights. Ethan's stomach grumbled as a lazy breeze carried with it the smell of freshly baked bread from the bakery down the street.

Vukashin looked over the trees that surrounded the Fountain of Cornerstone. Here the great kingdoms who had been Cyndonia's allies in the Guardian War were honored by having their sigil carved into one of the four great trees. Even though the war had only been twenty-three years ago, many talked about it as if it had only been a legend. Ethan followed Vukashin's eyes as they went from the great oak that Ethan was under to the Green Ash to the right of it. In its sand-colored bark was the carving of a fox with an arrow through one of its eyes. 

"The Fauxes," Vukashin spoke up, "were said to have been knights of the greatest caliber. They were also brutal that they left no enemy standing, should any spirit of revenge be left in one of them. They were the ones who bested the Sanicurian forces at the battle of Tidewater."

Marcus nodded, "I remember the story." He rose and strode over to the tree. He pulled out his sword, the steel glinting in the sunlight. "Led by Lord Aaron of Fauxelorn himself, the Fauxes rode into battle on steeds that were said to be made from the dark depths of the earth. Through marshlands they rode, facing not only the treacherous terrain but also the many snakes and gators that lived in the marshes. The Sanicurian forces, thrice as strong as Lord Aaron's, were lying in wait for them, hidden among the vegetation." Marcus crept forward, his footsteps careful and slow.

"The leader of the Sanicurian forces was Terrador, the Knight of the Earth, one of the Knights of the Redeemed. Lord Aaron was not afraid, he said he would tear Terrador down, feed his intestines to the foxes, and send his skin back to Sanicure."

Ethan sat up, his eyes wide and his hands wringing together. How he loved the old war stories. One day, he hoped his names would be on the lips of the people of Valente.

"They charged into battle," Marcus continued, his voice rising in volume as he shot forward, stopping on his heel. His blade pointed towards Vukashin.

Vukashin's face drained of color and he muttered under his breath, "that's not a toy." Marcus didn't seem to hear him.

"The two great armies clashed in a sea of blood and chaos. The marshlands sucked up any of the fallen soldiers, tripped up the horses' feet, and is now known as more of a grave than a marsh." Marcus made a dramatic falling motion, catching himself before he actually hit the ground. His eyes wandered from Ethan to Vukashin, watching their reactions.

"Soon, the blood bath became so hectic, that neither side was sure who was winning, as no one could tell whose bodies were from what kingdom. Aaron and Terrador refused to give up though, their pride too great to save the lives of their men." He made his way over to the fountain and hopped onto the ledge. "They finally squared off. Aaron was the one to make the first blow, slicing his sword into Terrador's stallion's chest. The animal screamed and buckled. The horse's body was sucked into the marsh's murky and thick waters.

"Terrador, however, wouldn't give in that easily. He called upon the power of the Divine Guardian of the Earth. A wall of mud, roots, and rocks rose between Lord Aaron and Terrador." Marcus ran around the fountain, hiding behind the great stone that housed the fountain's waterfall. Peering out from the other side he said in a low voice, "It was by hiding behind this wall that Terrador made his escape, calling back his men. He was seen riding away on a wolf as big as a horse. The fighting ended. The Sanicurian forces racing away with their tails between their legs. Lord Aaron swore to cut down Terrador before the war was through. Though, no one knows if it was actually him that did the deed or not."

"It was not Lord Aaron who killed Terrador," Marvin's voice cut in.

Vukashin turned his attention to his commander, who approached them on his white mare. "Marvin, you're late."

Marvin merely nodded and then looked to Marcus. "It was Ser Kragen, Lord Aaron's brother and current ruler of the Crestars, who killed Terrador."

Marcus shrugged, "I guess I had my story wrong."

Ethan rolled his eyes and then directed his question to Marvin. "What happened to Lord Aaron?"

"The Divine Guardian of the Earth ate him," another voice answered, this one older and airier.

Ethan blinked, confused. An elderly man dressed in turquoise riding robes approached them. White waves were sewn into the hem and the ends of his sleeves. He removed the hood which covered his face, revealing his many wrinkles and the long white beard that came down to his chest, curling at the end. His head had a few patches of white hair but was otherwise bald.

"I knew you would come," Marvin said, turning his horse to face the old man.

The man chuckled, patting his grey gelding's neck. "Stargazer and I couldn't pass up the chance to have one more adventure."

"Marvin, who is this?" Vukashin questioned.

"Men," Marvin began, looking at his team of knights. "This is my good friend, and once Adair's most trusted mage, Stefan the Wise."

"Stefan the Wise?" Marcus gasped. "I thought...I never thought I would see you in person."

"I retired from public life but Marvin here has convinced me that my knowledge and council is needed once more." Stefan bowed his head to the knights out of respect. "It is nice to finally meet you all. Marvin has said nothing but praises of you all."

"You mean, you will be traveling with us?" Ethan questioned.

"Yes," Marvin answered, "Stefan has more knowledge about the Celestial and Divine Stones of Sanicure than anyone else I know. He will be able to help us uncover what happened to them and where we can find them," Marvin informed. He looked over his comrades and they just stared at him blankly.

Vukashin suppressed a sigh. "It doesn't matter, the likely hood of the stones still being there is slim."

"It doesn't hurt to look once more. I am sure we can track them down," Stefan said.

"Are you all ready to head out?" Marvin questioned.

The group of knights nodded, mounting their respective horses. Marcus trotted his bay to the other side of Ethan's golden steed and said, "A mage, can you believe it?"

Ethan looked suspiciously at the old man, "I thought Stefan the wise had died," he whispered to Marcus.

"Another story told wrong," Marcus answered and rode after Marvin, Vukashin, and Stefan.

"He better not hold us back," Ethan muttered. His horse snorted in response and then trotted after the band of knights.


	7. Relentless

Heading toward the Western Gates, the knights maneuvered through the crowded Cyndonian streets. The town sang with its own dissonant voice melded from the people who went about their daily business. 

Merchants with their stalls of goods were lined up along the road, begging the knights to stop and search their wares for anything they could use on their journey. Ethan glanced at them through the corner of his eye, but like his companions, paid no mind to them. 

A bold wine-seller ran in front of their horses. Marvin had to pull on the reins sharply to avoid running into him. Orkid whinnied angrily, giving a half-rear before backing up two steps. He held up a flagon to Marvin, "a taste, my lord. Just a taste. You will want to bring some cheer with you on your journey, should it prove to be difficult."

Marvin turned him down gently, much to Ethan's annoyance. He handed the man a coin for his troubles. The wine seller pocketed the coin and then went on his way, moving to the men behind them.

"You should have put him in his place," Ethan hissed, riding up to Marvin. He turned his head to give a final glare to the wine-seller. It went unnoticed.

"Why? For doing his job?" Marvin asked. "We are here to keep the peace not start needless fights. Remember that, Ethan." Marvin encouraged Orkid to a trot, leaving Ethan behind him. A scowl decorated the blond's face which he hid by pulling out his helmet and placing it on his head.

The Western Gates came into view. As with the Southern Gates, two mighty watch towers with golden dragons sitting on top stood on either side of the massive wooden gates. One of the guardsmen keeping watch on the walls, turned as he heard the group approaching. He waved at them and then blew a horn, signaling for the man on the other side of the gate to open it. The wooden doors whined as they slowly came apart, revealing the yellowing fields that lay beyond. "Good luck on your journey," the guardsman called out to them as they passed through.

Marcus turned in his saddle, throwing the guardsmen his signature grin. 

Once they passed the kingdom's mighty walls, Marvin encouraged his horse into a gallop. The others raced after him, their horses breathing rhythmically. Their thundering hooves sent a storm of dust behind them.

They rode through the countryside. Vast farmlands stretched out on either side of them. People of all shapes and sizes worked in the fields, handling crops, animals, or tilling the land. Ethan wondered how they could work under the scorching sun which bared down on them.

As they passed the last of the crop fields, Marvin held his hand up, slowing down the team. His horse was panting and covered in sweat.

Stefan, who had been trailing behind the group, caught up to them as they waited at a fork in the road. Glistening sweat raced down his wrinkled face in beads, following the angular lines of his jaw, and hanging off of the tip of his nose. He pulled a small cloth from the folds of his robes and blotted his face. "The sun is relentless," he commented.

"How far is it to Univa?" Ethan asked Marvin. 

"Not too far. A two days ride from here," Marvin answered. He then removed his canteen, taking a long drink before putting it back in his saddlebags. 

Marvin waited for the others to take a drink before setting off again at a trot.

As the day became older, the sun began its descent towards its temporary resting place. The sky was darkening, mixing deeper colors of purple, red, and orange. Soon, the moon would be visible, as she climbed the skies to take her watch over the night. Her veil of silver light would light the night for creatures of earth to see by. Ethan hoped that the night's cool breath would give them relief from the heat which currently plagued them.

Marvin suddenly pulled his horse off of the dirt road and into the yellowing grass. The others quietly followed. He led them towards an old tree, whose many arms were open wide, casting long shadows.

"We will set up camp for the night here," Marvin announced. He turned to face his men.

"Wouldn't we be safer near the road?" Ethan questioned. He turned in his saddle, measuring the distance between them and the road.

"No," Marvin shook his head. "Cyndonia may be powerful, but she still has her enemies. Since we have left the domain of the Watchmen, it would be best if we were safer and not caught completely off-guard by an enemy or the swift hands of thieves."

Stefan nodded. "Good thing it isn't cold," the old mage commented as he looked down at the yellowing grass. "If we lit a fire here, the whole field would be up in flames."

"That would be most unfortunate," Marcus said, removing his helmet. His hair was flat against his head, maintaining the helmet shape. If the image hadn't reminded Ethan of all the sweat rolling down his own back, he might have found it humorous.

"Yes, indeed." Marvin agreed and then smiled at Marcus. "Would you mind taking the first watch?"

"My favorite watch to take," he answered. Looking up at the night sky Marcus added, "my beauty sleep will not be disturbed this way." He then dismounted, walking his bay gelding, Acorn, over to the tree. He threw the reins over one of the strong branches and tied them lightly.

Ethan frowned, looking once more to the road. He had hoped they might encounter other travelers. The news and stories they would have learned. Longingly, he watched as a wagon passed swiftly by accompanied by an escort of guards. Their story he would never know. 

With a huff, Ethan dismounted his golden stallion, Sunraider. He led him to the tree, next to Marcus's horse, and tethered him. The stallion nudged Ethan's shoulder as he removed the red caparison. He folded it neatly and ran a hand over the gold stitching of a dog holding a duck in its mouth. He smiled as he thought of the words that went with it, "no goal unreached."

Vukashin had already removed his horse's saddle, bridle, and caparison. He never cared to tether his horse. Ethan looked over at the dark knight who now sat down under the tree, using the saddle as a pillow for his head. How he trained that horse to stay close to them, he would never know. Ethan knew, as loyal of a companion that Sunraider was, his horse would take any opportunity to bolt. Of course, he always allowed himself to get caught after his fun was done.

Sitting down under the tree, Ethan found his gaze once again on the road. _What if the wagon that passed by was a prince or princess? Could they be on their way to Cyndonia to meet Adair? Or were they a rich earl or duke?_

He sighed, this was his first time on a large assignment. His first time so far from the Kingdom's gates. He had won his knighthood in a sword-fighting contest. Adair had deemed him ready, and he remembered the look of pride on Marvin's face when he was knighted.

Now, here he was, on his first grand adventure, baking to death. Not even the comfort of grand stories from folktellers, the songs of bards, or even the words of strangers to ease his discomfort.

He turned to say something to Marcus, but the knight had already climbed up into the tree. Sitting on one of the thicker branches, he looked out into the night.

"May I sit next to you?" Stefan's old airy voice caught Ethan off guard, making him jump.

Ethan nodded and watched as Stefan struggled to lower his old body down to the ground. "I may need help getting up," he admitted with a chuckle. His cheeks flushed pink. "These old bones don't work like they used to."

Not sure what to say, Ethan turned his attention back to the main road. The silence that enveloped them was agonizingly awkward. He could feel Stefan's eyes studying him. It was as if the mage hadn't been taught not to stare. "The sun was relentless today," Stefan finally spoke, as the silence came too much to bear. Ethan frowned, the old man had already said that once before.

Stefan nodded as if his own words were something of infinite wisdom. He took out his leather-bound canteen and brought it to his lips. Taking a short drink, he then offered the canteen to Ethan, which Ethan politely turned down. With another slow nod, Stefan replaced the lid and dropped the canteen into his lap, as if his old hands had tired of holding it. Was he really going to be a worthy asset to the team? 

"Aye. This whole summer has been rather hot. But then again, most summers in Valente are brutal, unless you live in the northern mountains. There the sun does not dare to disturb the thick clouds that protect the snow-capped mountains down below," Stefan commented, looking up into the night sky.

"You must have been all over Valente," Ethan said, perking up. How could he have forgotten that there was a whole life of adventures sitting right next to him?

"Haha, yes. In my younger years, I traveled to the many great Kingdoms of Valente. From the Crestars to the Southern Isles of Lyndora, I am pretty sure I have been to all four corners of the map." Stefan smiled and leaned back against the tree. His eyes took on a far off look as he became lost in some memory.

Marvin walked over to join them and sat down next to Ethan, creating a small circle. Ethan felt a small well of pride building in his chest. This was his team and he was a true knight of Cyndonia.

"Have you always lived in Cyndonia?" Ethan questioned.

He then heard a scoff from Vukashin. Ethan's cheeks flushed as he turned his attention to the dark knight, who had sat up, his eyes on them.

Stefan chuckled and then said, "boy, you do me great service but I am an old man." Cyndonia was founded 25 years ago by Adair. The kingdom isn't old enough for me to have lived my whole life in its stead. Though, I hope I look young enough to be."

Ethan gave an embarrassed smile, scratching the back of his head. He had been born and raised in Cyndonia, so to him, it seemed as if the Kingdom had always been standing. In reality, it was the youngest kingdom in Valente.

"No, I am originally from Sanicure," Stefan admitted. 

Ethan tensed. His hand sliding towards his blade which was hidden under his caparison. _That couldn't be possible...all of the inhabitants of Sanicure were ordered to be killed._

Stefan brought his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around them. He then closed his eyes and began his tale.

"I left Sanicure a month before the Kingdom fell. I couldn't bear the thought of watching the place where I grew up crumble around me. Nor could I watch the people I cared for being murdered before my eyes," he let out a heavy breath. "No one can prepare you for the insurmountable pain of losing a loved one, but when multiple people lose their lives to the hands of those who used to call them friend, then the tragedy is even worse."

Stefan paused, shivering as if he were cold. Ethan frowned deeply. He had studied the battle history of the Guardian's War, as it was called. King Cameron and King Adair had once been brothers, everyone in Valente knew that. But, Ethan had never considered that it meant the people of Sanicure themselves were split.

"When it became clear that neither side was going to be victorious, I withdrew my loyalty to Sanicure and fled to the Kingdom of Dominion. Dominion, with its zero violence tolerance, was the sanctuary to those, like me, who refused to become engulfed in the brothers quarrel."

"Aren't you supposed to be Adair's greatest mage though? Surely you fought with him during the decisive battle?" Ethan pressed.

Stefan looked at Ethan sadly. "No. I wasn't there. I stayed in Dominion until the war ended. Then I traveled to Cyndonia and presented myself to the King. From there he agreed to let me serve him as I once did his brother. See, Cameron allowed me to travel the world, gaining knowledge from the kingdoms around us. With Cyndonia as young as she was, she would need knowledge from every part of Valente to become what she is today."

Vukashin chuckled, which caught everyone's attention. The dark knight, whose body was now blending into the darkness around him making it hard to distinguish any of his features, stood. He walked over to them, joining the small circle they had made. "So then you never actually saw one of the Guardians in battle?"

"My boy," Stefan smiled and looked over him. "As son to the great chief of the tribe of Rishka, I am surprised at how little faith you place in them."

Vukashin turned his head away. This close up, Ethan could almost make out a scowl.

"Even the nomadic tribes of Valente revered the Guardians. While I may not have seen them in battle, I did see and study alongside them. They walked beside those who were chosen to wield their power, speaking to them and giving them counsel. It wasn't just the ability to control the elements that made these guardians so powerful, it was the wisdom of God they carried."

"Is that why Adair wants the stones?" Ethan ventured, looking at Marvin. "So that someone can't use their power or the knowledge of God against us?"

Marvin nodded, "yes. If we allow an enemy of Cyndonia to gain the stones' power, then Cyndonia would be in grave danger."

Vukashin rose and said over his shoulder, "perhaps God purposely hid them from your view. Maybe he himself saw the folly in giving mankind such power. As I said before, it is probably best to let these legends remain dormant than to dig them up in fear."

He began to walk away from them.

"Where are you going?" Ethan called out.

"To get water," the knight replied. The darkness slowly closed its curtain around the knight, shielding him from their view. 


	8. Noises of the Night

Dead grass crunched under Vukashin's feet as he walked through the fields. A small stream whispered ahead, telling its secrets to the grasshoppers playing soft tunes along its bank. Stopping, Vukashin looked around, taking in the sky which was now painted over with a rich purple. The moon's silver light chased away the rest of the sun's deep red and golden rays, leaving them a sliver on the horizon.

Sitting down on the bank, Vukashin breathed in the fresh air. The night's cold fingers brushed by his face and stirred the grass around him. Despite the harsh summers of Valente, its nights were relatively cool.

A deep breath escaped the knight as he forced himself to now look at his dim reflection on the water's surface. He scowled, his eyes blended in with the color of his skin on the dark water's surface. Even his own two eyes saw him as nothing more than a spawn of the darkness. Nothing more than dirt. Definitely not human.

 _"You are not nothing."_ The taunting voice of Aegis the Bull, his old mentor, resonated in his ears. _"You are a tool. A deadly blade. Or a silent arrow. But nothing more. A king doesn't keep a knight because he has a good heart. No, he keeps him around because he is useful. Deadly. Able to get the job done when needed. In that sense, even someone from your background can have some kind of purpose."_

Vukashin shook his head. Aegis had been forced to train Vukashin, as no other knight would dare take him. His mentor, whose thick beard, dark eyes, and permanent scowl caused him to live up to his name. He had a short temper but was a hell of a fighter. While not many of the other knights liked him, no one would dare to cross paths with him, lest they face the sharpness of his tongue or worse, the deadly blade of his axe.

Looking down at his arms, Vukashin could make out the thin white scars of being cut, over and over again. As if he was nothing more than a whetting stone. Aegis didn't believe that a knight should feel. A knight shouldn't think. No, a knight was only meant to serve his purpose, and should he retire and live as an old man...that was shameful. Aegis died on the battlefield, ironically in an ambush from the Inka tribe.

Vukashin huffed. A tool was no longer useful when it was broken.

The distinct snapping of twigs caused Vukashin to freeze. He slowly rose, turning to the source of the noise but he saw nothing. The earth lay still. Quiet. Too quiet. Even the crickets had stopped their playing.

Vukashin pulled out the dagger which he kept hidden in his boot. He mentally scolded himself, he should have brought his bow with him. Too late for that now.

He waited, watching the darkness as if for a moment the veil would be slipped away and show him what lies beneath. But he saw and heard nothing, save for the babbling of the stream. He turned to look back at its waters. "Perhaps I am a bit paranoid," Vukashin said to himself as he lowered himself down to his knees. He took his canteen from his belt and placed it into the gently flowing waters, watching as the stream rushed in to fill it.

It suddenly occurred to Vukashin that his life was much like the water in the stream. Continuously moving forward, unaware of the canteen of death that would wait until the perfect moment to entrap him. He would rush into its darkness, not even aware of the permanent dead end. No one mourns a useless tool. Instead, it is simply replaced. The work must be completed.

The Rishkan tribe believed that there was an afterlife. An endless field of green where lost souls would meet with loved ones. It was here they would reunite with family and friends, continuing their tribe life in peace. No more hunger. No more thirst. No more fighting for land.

But this, much like the God of Valente that many of the 'civilized' kingdoms believed in, was a foreign concept to him. _Some legends are meant to die._

Vukashin looked up at the night sky, taking in the stars which were taking their place in the sky. He had never seen one of the Guardians of Sanicure, but he had heard stories. His mother used to say that Shacor, the Celestial Guardian of Darkness was as silver and stunning as the moon. He commanded his own army of souls. These souls were meant to bring broken hearts back to the fold of Mallah, where the god would heal them.

 _Heal a broken heart_. Vukashin scoffed. Such foolish stories that only children would believe. A broken heart needed more than just some kind words or even a god to heal it. It was the broken person who had to fit the pieces of their hearts back together. Just like it was a farmer's job to fix their tools or find a new one to replace it.

_"People can't replace their hearts."_

Vukashin froze, the canteen slipping from his fingers. That voice. It echoed in his head, like the wind, only darker and more sinister. His skin felt ice-cold. His muscles were frozen. Chills raced down from his neck to his legs.

A hot breath ran over his neck. Vukashin gripped the dagger in his hand tight, his eyes moving to look at his reflection. A pair of lucid yellow eyes stared back at him but its body was indistinguishable from the rest of the darkness. Whirling around, Vukashin slashed his dagger through the air. But it hit nothing. He breathed heavily. His heart drumming madly in his chest.

He slowly lowered his dagger, feeling slightly foolish. It had been a long time since he had been afraid of the noises of the night.

Swallowing the last of his fear, Vukashin knelt down and picked up his canteen. He made sure to replace the cap before tying it back to his belt. With one final glance around him, Vukashin began to make his way back to his comrades. Even though he kept telling himself he was fine, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was stalking him in the darkness.


	9. Nothing

Ethan ran his blade over the whetstone, listening to the satisfying _'shing'_ of the metal. He had never truly fought in a battle, only in mock sword fights to best his adversary. The knights whom he had trained with he admired, but never once did he try to kill. He had chased after thieves, stopped drunkards, and broken up a few bar fights but he had never once felt his blade cut open a man's throat. Now, as he watched over the landscape covered in darkness with a thin veil of silver moonlight, he wondered if he could.

How did it feel to take another man's life?

Marvin had always said taking an enemy's life was only reserved when there was no other option. Incapacitating an enemy was ideal, as it preserved his life. "In life, there is always potential, but death is a permanent end," Ethan whispered, remembering the words. He looked down at his blade, watching as the moonlight glinted off the steel. A permanent end. He gulped. Would his enemies feel the same about his life? See value in it?

He doubted it. Grand stories of valor didn't come without death. He didn't know a knight's tale where they had never slain a man before. Instead, they watched the life run out of their foes. Did they feel the sickening euphoria of victory, as their own life was spared only because he was able to outmaneuver and steal another's life before they stole his.

Ethan looked down at his sleeping comrades. Marcus snored softly, curled up into a ball with his head on his saddle. Marvin was leaned up against the tree and Stefan was lying in the grass. All of them seemed so peaceful. Only Ethan separated them from the dangers of the night, which could easily sneak up and make their dreams permanent. He shivered.

He could feel eyes on him. Would this be the moment?

Ethan allowed the whetstone to drop to the ground before turning. He slowly scanned his surroundings. He could see the outline of a person slowly approaching them. The stranger's footsteps were soft and steady.

Gripping his blade, Ethan carefully stepped around his comrades and towards the stranger. He would be the shield they needed. _No matter what, I won't back down._

"Don't come any further and state your purpose," Ethan spoke boldly. His hand grasped the pommel of his blade so tight that he could feel the strain in his knuckles.

There was an amused chuckle and then Vukashin's face became clear under the moonlight. His eyes ran over Ethan, an eyebrow raised. "Very intimidating, Ethan," his comrade said as he simply passed by him. "I was quaking in my boots."

Scowling, Ethan turned to follow him. "Where the heck were you?"

"I told you, getting water," Vukashin answered, shaking his canteen so the water sloshed against the sides.

"You were gone for a while."

"I like the silence," Vukashin answered simply. He looked back at Ethan, "I can take watch, you should get some sleep."

"No," Ethan shook his head. "I just released Marcus of his watch about an hour ago. It's my turn."

Vukashin's eyes narrowed. "You're jumpy. Nervous. You wouldn't be able to fight in a battle, should an enemy reveal himself. Go to sleep, Ethan."

Ethan didn't drop his gaze from Vukashin. Instead, his grip increased on his sword. Who was he to talk to him like that? "You want to bet that I wouldn't be able to fight." Ethan took a step forward, feeling his anger pulsating through his veins with every heartbeat. He would silence Vukashin once and for all.

"A great warrior knows when the battle is lost before it has even begun. If you can't overpower your adversary or outsmart him, it best to simply run away."

"And be a coward?"

"No. There is no shame in admitting you can't win. There is no shame in waiting. There is no shame in admitting that you may be way over your head. You aren't ready to be a knight, Ethan. You have never been in a true battle. You have never had to see your comrades wounded or dying around you. You have never had to be face to face with another man. Their life and your life balancing on a single scale. All it takes is for one of you to tip the balance," Vukashin answered gruffly. "You prance around and hold that blade as if it is an honor to face an enemy in battle. A pleasure to take another man's life. But you know nothing." He knelt down and picked up the whetstone that Ethan dropped. "Sharpen your blade. Sharpen your mind. Do whatever you think you have to do, but when the time comes to pay your dues to be the knight that you dream about, it will never be enough. There is a reason why Aegis likens a knight to a tool. Tools don't feel."

Ethan stared at Vukashin. Angry, embarrassed, and slightly confused, he didn't know what to say. Ethan had been around the dark knight since he had begun his training with Marvin but never had the knight ever said so much to him. Looking down at his blade, Ethan sighed and sheathed it. "Can I least take watch with you?" He finally settled.

Vukashin shrugged and sat down under the tree, his focus no longer on him. 

Taking his place next to Vukashin, Ethan scanned the darkness. "Do you really think someone would attack us?"

Removing the dagger from his boot, the dark knight stuck it into the ground. "I don't want to raise an alarm, because I never actually saw it. But I had a feeling I was being watched when I was at the stream."

Ethan looked around wildly as if he would be able to see the shadows that stalk the night. But he saw nothing except for his sleeping comrades, the wide span of grass, and the large tree which they sat under.

"It could have just been an animal," Vukashin continued. A smile was spreading on his face, scrunching up the scar that ran from his right eye down to the corner of his mouth.

"An animal wouldn't have you spooked," Ethan remarked, drawing his blade and placing it on his lap.

Vukashin looked at Ethan out of the corner of his eye. "Perhaps you aren't as simple-minded as I give you credit for."

Ethan couldn't help but smirk. "Perhaps not."


	10. Hostile

Ethan groaned as he sat up. He barely remembered Marvin coming to relieve him and Vukashin. Sleep had been fighting with him for the last hour of his watch with the dark knight, and it had only been him listening to the former tribesman recount old Rishkan legends that had seen him through. Now, he felt like his whole body has been turned into a giant slab of stone. His muscles were heavy, stiff, and he felt the strong gnawing of hunger on his stomach.

"Rise and shine, princess," Marcus said as he shoved a piece of bread into Ethan's hands. Ethan looked down at it and up at Marcus. "You put it in your mouth and chew," his comrade explained with a wink.

"I know how to eat," Ethan snapped. He took a bite of it, feeling the tough outer layer grind against his teeth before they ripped through to the soft bland center.

"Well, you looked confused," Marcus answered.

Rolling his eyes, Ethan quickly finished his stale bread before rising and going to his horse. The stallion was picking at dead blades of grass. "Alright, boy," he said as he placed a hand on the golden stallion's neck. "Another two days and we will be in Univa.

The two days passed in segments, separated by watering the horses, eating a small lunch of dried deer meat and bread, and then another small break to once again rest the horses. The sun climbed and descended, adding and taking away colors in the sky. At night, they kept the same watch schedule, and, as before Ethan forced himself to take up watch with Vukashin. The dark knight, who was usually a loner, seemed taken back but welcomed the company. While most of the night was met in silence, Ethan did get a few stories out of the stick in the mud.

"How did you get your scar?" Ethan said, motioning to the long scar on his face.

Vukashin didn't answer and instead, looked over at Marcus who was curled up, snoring loudly. "What do you think he would do if we shaved off that nasty beard and mustache?"

"Probably crumbled into a bunch of little pieces. He would finally be able to finally pick up a girl though," Ethan answered. He frowned, slightly disappointed. Besides old stories about his time training under Aegis, Vukashin never talked about his stories as a knight. In fact, while other knights of Cyndonia had surnames that were often accompanied by some grand story or song from a bard, Vukashin's name often brought only scowls and ridicule. The knight himself had deemed himself Vukashin, the Lone Wolf. No one else called him that, though. It was often, Vukashin the Savage, Vukashin the Lost Puppy, Or Vukashin the King's Hound.

Ethan had wanted to ask Vukashin of this quality but he never got the chance. Rustling in the long grass followed by the distinct snapping dead brush and twigs grabbed their attention. While they had seen nothing that night, Ethan remembered the chill brushing his skin, raising his hair, and freezing his heart. The bloodlust in the air had been palpable, that much was for certain.

Now, as he rode in the back of the company, Ethan kept looking over his shoulder, waiting to see an assassin or band of thieves come charging out of the long dying grass. Breathing deeply, he reassured himself that wouldn't happen.

"Your falling behind, Ethan," Marcus called from ahead.

Looking forward once again, Ethan felt his cheeks blush as he noticed the widening distance. Sunraider had gone from a trot to a slow walk. Urging his stallion onwards, Ethan rode until he was side by side with Marcus. "Sorry."

"I promise you," Marcus said, reaching over and patting Ethan on the shoulder. "Whatever you and Vukashin heard that night was probably an animal, like a squirrel."

An uneasy smile spread across Ethan's lips. He wasn't so sure. He had felt the air become cold and still. An animal didn't command that type of presence. This was something sinister.

"Marcus is right," Vukashin said from ahead, overhearing his comrades. "The darkness has you spooked."

Ethan arched an eyebrow. "If I recall correctly, you reached for your bow the same time I reached for my sword."

"I was hoping we could have a fresh meal," Vukashin replied gruffly.

Marcus sighed. "Now ladies," he said, a large toothy grin parting the sea of hair between his upper and bottom lip. "It is okay to be afraid of the dar. Completely respectable. Well...for children and women, that is."

Stefan laughed and Ethan felt his face darken, the heat running to his cheeks and neck.

Vukashin rolled his eyes and kept moving forward, mumbling something inaudible under his breath.

"You are a dead man walking, Marcus," Ethan growled.

Marvin halted his horse, turning to face his men. A look of amusement raising his eyebrows and the corners of his lips. "Men, in the distance you can probably make out the town of Univa, or at least her stadium tower and flags. Remember, right now the town is under tension due to the rise of unrest. It is in our best interests if we keep all of our jests and jabs at each other for when we are alone, and not in the public view. They need to see Cyndonia's strength."

They all nodded. Ethan gulped, "What is Univa like?"

Stefan turned his grey gelding, Stargazer, to face Ethan. "Univa is a wonderful town. It has many taverns and bars and is known for its expansive trade market and impressive jousting stadium. It was the center of trade and competition among the kingdoms for many years. Though, since five years ago, there hasn't been a competition. I am also afraid that traders bypass this city."

"How come?" Ethan questioned.

Stefan shook his head. "Univa used to be its own entity. Not it's own kingdom but not owing allegiance to any of the great kingdoms of Valente. It was a place of peace, sport, and trade. Any fighting was handled in the ring on horseback with a lance. Now, though, Cyndonia lays claim to Univa and its people are under Adair's jurisdiction. If I had to guess what the unrest is over, it is probably on the taxes that the people have to pay, since it would be the first time they have ever done so."

Ethan sat up straighter in the saddle. "Jousting?"

"Did you miss the part where they haven't had a tournament in years?" Marcus asked.

***

Thick, heavy, and sticky air made it hard to breathe. Though the sun was starting its descent, the heat of the day had settled all around the knights of the Dragon's Keep. Marvin was glad as the wooden gates that surrounded the town of Univa became clearer and clearer. Two knights in bronze stood at either side of the gates, long spears in their hands. Cyndondia's symbol, a red dragon guarding a crown on black, flapped slowly in the wind from a flagpole that stood behind the gates.

Spotting the Cyndonian knights, the Univan knights lowered their spears. One of them stepped forward, his face covered by his bronze helmet. "Halt, in the name of Sir Wellington, feudal lord over the town of Univa and loyal servant of Adair, King of Cyndonia."

Marvin put up his hand, causing his team to stop behind him. He then rode forward, alone to meet the Univan knights. "Greetings, knights of Univa. I am Marvin, leader of the Knights of the Dragon's Keep of Cyndonia. Adair has sent us here to quell the unrest which has been rising in your town."

The Univian knight who stepped forward audibly gasped and turned to his companion, frantically signaling him with a wave of his hand to open the gate. "Marvin the Brave!" He began, turning back to Marvin. "I am sorry I did not recognize you."

"Thank you," Marvin said politely, turning back to his team and motioning for them to follow him inside.

People littered the streets, rushing over to see the knights ride through. Marvin looked from face to face, taking them all in. What he noticed was hungry people, dressed in cheap clothing covered in dirt, and distrust painting their faces. Guardsmen and knights alike were spread out through the town square, taking up positions near the various tents where merchants, bakers, carpenters, and metalsmiths sold their wares.

Marvin felt a bit of unease as the people, seemed to take them in with a mixture of interest and disgust. The market, which was usually packed so full that one could hardly move was full of empty stalls and the people were able to walk without even coming close to brushing their neighbor. This was not the Univa he remembered from his days as a squire.

"Marvin," Vukashin whispered, riding close to him. "Something is wrong. Very wrong."

Marvin nodded. Stefan had said that the town had changed once Cyndonia had taken it over, but even the taxes shouldn't have crippled the people who lived here that badly. No. Instead, it was as if the heart of this town had been ripped out, leaving a gaping hole.

He stopped turning his horse to his knights. "Vukashin, take Ethan and Marcus to the Boar's Head, I will meet you there shortly. Stefan and I are going on to talk to Sir Wellington and see if we can't get any answers as to what is going on here."

"Yes, sir," Vukashin answered, bowing his head slightly. He turned his horse around and motioned for Ethan and Marcus to follow him.

Marvin nodded to Stefan who followed him onwards, the piercing stares of the citizens of Univa trained hard on their backs.

***

Vukashin led the way to Boar's Head, an old inn and bar. He and Marvin had stayed there when they were mere squires, attending a tournament in which their mentors were participating. The old inn, which had once stood as one of Univa's prized buildings, looked in need of desperate repair. The roof looked like it was sinking in. Ivy ran up the stone walls, which at one time were a light grey but now was darkened from dirt and grime. The boar, which had been painted on the door was faded, the tusks were gone. Vukashin frowned deeply as he dismounted.

He turned to Ethan, handing him his horse's reins. "Stay here, I will get a room for all of us," he directed to Ethan and Marcus.

Ethan and Marcus nodded. Ethan muttered under his breath, "this place isn't fit to keep noble knights such as we."

Vukashin entered the rundown inn. Strong scents of meat, mead, sweat, and mold hung in the air. The parlor was dark and gloomy. The tables, which Vukashin last remembered being full of knights and tradesmen, were now empty. The only souls in the building it seemed were the two men slouched over at the bar and the grisly of a man behind the bar counter.

Vukashin approached them, causing the rugged innkeeper to look up. The scowl over the man's face quickly dissipated as he realized who was coming towards him. "Vukashin? Is that you?" His husky voice rumbled.

"Barbos, it's been a while," Vukashin greeted. He took a seat at the bar a few seats away from the other two men. They looked over at him, staring him down with their red dilated eyes.

"Aye, it has," Barbos agreed, walking over to him. "The last time I saw yer, ye was just a pup, trailing behind your master. How is old Aegis?"

"Dead," Vukashin answered shortly.

Barbos blinked and then shook his head, a growl of a laugh passing his lips. "A hot-head that one." He then focused his attention on Vukashin, leaning in close so only he could hear him. "I am not sure why ye come back to these parts, but I wouldn't linger. There are a group of strangers that have been rowing up the city, gathering supporters, and ill-will towards Cyndonia."

"That is why I am here," Vukashin replied. He looked over at the two drunken men, who were nursing their ale. "I was hoping you had some rooms available," he finally said, raising his eyebrows at the two drunks.

One of them spit on the ground and sneered at Vukashin.

"I have two rooms available," Barbos said, standing up straight.

"Two? Surely you have more than that?" Vukashin questioned, looking around at the empty bar. "This place is a ghost town."

"Well, even ghosts need a proper floor to walk on and a roof to keep the elements out. Unfortunately, the Boar's Head has seen better days," Barbos groaned, looking up at the ceiling which was speckled with rotting boards.

Vukashin nodded. "It is sad to see Univa like this. The last I remember it was a place to behold. What happened? Where are all the people?"

"Wha' happened? Ye want to know wha' happened?" The man closest to him turned in his seat, raising his glass angrily as the words slurred out of his mouth. Ale sloshed over the sides of the mug and ran down the man's hand. He didn't seem to notice. "I'll tell yer what happened, savage. Cyndonia and that bastard of a king is what happened. He came in ere, took all our money, and now he and that pompous arrogant fat toad wipe d'ere asses with gold soft paper while we live in our own filth."

Vukashin slowly looked the man over. Red splotches decorated the man's cheeks, matching the large pimples right above his fat lip. His hair was disheveled, his clothes dirty, and Vukashin could smell the strong stench of body odor from him.

"Hmm, it seems Adair missed a few coins, as you still have enough to get drunk off of ale," Vukashin said simply. He turned to Barbos, "I'll take the rooms."

"Excuse me?" The second man roared. "How dare you talk to my friend like that!"

The man rose from his seat, knocking the chair straight backward. It clattered on the floor. The first man tried to rise but his legs failed him.

"You may wear the armor of a knight but it does not change the fact that you are nothing more than an a'jin," the second man bellowed, the veins in his neck popping out.

Vukashin's eyes narrowed but he took a deep breath and turned to leave. "I will see you later, Barbos."

"Don't turn your back when I am talking to you!" The second man continued, slamming his fist down on the bar. The loud boom rattled the dishes stored underneath the bar top.

Barbos looked between both men and finally said, "get ye drunk asses out of my inn, now!"

"I'm not done wit my drink," the first man answered, taking a long gulp.

"And I haven't put this worm back in his place," the second man answered. He cracked his knuckles and took another step towards Vukashin.

Looking him over, Vukashin said calmly, "it would be wise of you to back down, sir."

The man guffawed, his spit flying out of his mouth and his belly bouncing. "Wise? Listen to you! You think you know what is wise? What? Did your shaman tell you how to read the stars or how to tell the future by eating the dirt?"

"Only fools would challenge someone who clearly outmatches them," Vukashin answered, his voice dropping deeper into his chest.

"Fools?" The second man exclaimed. He turned back to his friend. "Hear what he called us, Jack? Fools? I think it is time to show this dung eating mutt who is boss around here."

The first man looked at him and then at Vukashin. "E' doesn't even carry a sward."

The second man nodded and then suddenly charged at Vukashin.

Swiftly, Vukashin sidestepped out of the man's path, then used his knee to collide with the man's stomach, bringing his elbow down on the man's back as he was forced up. The man fell to the floor with a heavy thud.

The first man rose to help his friend but his body was too far gone to be of any use. He simply fell to the ground. What was left of his ale quickly splashing out of his glass as it clinked across the floor.

"I'll see you later, Barbos," Vukashin said as he stepped over his adversary. The man groaned but didn't do anything to stop him.

"Yeah," Barbos said and sighed, "what a mess."


	11. Hostile

Ethan groaned as he sat up. He barely remembered Marvin coming to relieve him and Vukashin. Sleep had been fighting with him for the last hour of his watch with the dark knight, and it had only been him listening to the former tribesman recount old Rishkan legends that had seen him through. Now, he felt like his whole body has been turned into a giant slab of stone. His muscles were heavy, stiff, and he felt the strong gnawing of hunger on his stomach.

"Rise and shine, princess," Marcus said as he shoved a piece of bread into Ethan's hands. Ethan looked down at it and up at Marcus. "You put it in your mouth and chew," his comrade explained with a wink.

"I know how to eat," Ethan snapped. He took a bite of it, feeling the tough outer layer grind against his teeth before they ripped through to the soft bland center.

"Well, you looked confused," Marcus answered.

Rolling his eyes, Ethan quickly finished his stale bread before rising and going to his horse. The stallion was picking at dead blades of grass. "Alright, boy," he said as he placed a hand on the golden stallion's neck. "Another two days and we will be in Univa.

The two days passed in segments, separated by watering the horses, eating a small lunch of dried deer meat and bread, and then another small break to once again rest the horses. The sun climbed and descended, adding and taking away colors in the sky. At night, they kept the same watch schedule, and, as before Ethan forced himself to take up watch with Vukashin. The dark knight, who was usually a loner, seemed taken back but welcomed the company. While most of the night was met in silence, Ethan did get a few stories out of the stick in the mud.

"How did you get your scar?" Ethan said, motioning to the long scar on his face.

Vukashin didn't answer and instead, looked over at Marcus who was curled up, snoring loudly. "What do you think he would do if we shaved off that nasty beard and mustache?"

"Probably crumbled into a bunch of little pieces. He would finally be able to finally pick up a girl though," Ethan answered. He frowned, slightly disappointed. Besides old stories about his time training under Aegis, Vukashin never talked about his stories as a knight. In fact, while other knights of Cyndonia had surnames that were often accompanied by some grand story or song from a bard, Vukashin's name often brought only scowls and ridicule. The knight himself had deemed himself Vukashin, the Lone Wolf. No one else called him that, though. It was often, Vukashin the Savage, Vukashin the Lost Puppy, Or Vukashin the King's Hound.

Ethan had wanted to ask Vukashin of this quality but he never got the chance. Rustling in the long grass followed by the distinct snapping dead brush and twigs grabbed their attention. While they had seen nothing that night, Ethan remembered the chill brushing his skin, raising his hair, and freezing his heart. The bloodlust in the air had been palpable, that much was for certain.

Now, as he rode in the back of the company, Ethan kept looking over his shoulder, waiting to see an assassin or band of thieves come charging out of the long dying grass. Breathing deeply, he reassured himself that wouldn't happen.

"Your falling behind, Ethan," Marcus called from ahead.

Looking forward once again, Ethan felt his cheeks blush as he noticed the widening distance. Sunraider had gone from a trot to a slow walk. Urging his stallion onwards, Ethan rode until he was side by side with Marcus. "Sorry."

"I promise you," Marcus said, reaching over and patting Ethan on the shoulder. "Whatever you and Vukashin heard that night was probably an animal, like a squirrel."

An uneasy smile spread across Ethan's lips. He wasn't so sure. He had felt the air become cold and still. An animal didn't command that type of presence. This was something sinister.

"Marcus is right," Vukashin said from ahead, overhearing his comrades. "The darkness has you spooked."

Ethan arched an eyebrow. "If I recall correctly, you reached for your bow the same time I reached for my sword."

"I was hoping we could have a fresh meal," Vukashin replied gruffly.

Marcus sighed. "Now ladies," he said, a large toothy grin parting the sea of hair between his upper and bottom lip. "It is okay to be afraid of the dar. Completely respectable. Well...for children and women, that is."

Stefan laughed and Ethan felt his face darken, the heat running to his cheeks and neck.

Vukashin rolled his eyes and kept moving forward, mumbling something inaudible under his breath.

"You are a dead man walking, Marcus," Ethan growled.

Marvin halted his horse, turning to face his men. A look of amusement raising his eyebrows and the corners of his lips. "Men, in the distance you can probably make out the town of Univa, or at least her stadium tower and flags. Remember, right now the town is under tension due to the rise of unrest. It is in our best interests if we keep all of our jests and jabs at each other for when we are alone, and not in the public view. They need to see Cyndonia's strength."

They all nodded. Ethan gulped, "What is Univa like?"

Stefan turned his grey gelding, Stargazer, to face Ethan. "Univa is a wonderful town. It has many taverns and bars and is known for its expansive trade market and impressive jousting stadium. It was the center of trade and competition among the kingdoms for many years. Though, since five years ago, there hasn't been a competition. I am also afraid that traders bypass this city."

"How come?" Ethan questioned.

Stefan shook his head. "Univa used to be its own entity. Not it's own kingdom but not owing allegiance to any of the great kingdoms of Valente. It was a place of peace, sport, and trade. Any fighting was handled in the ring on horseback with a lance. Now, though, Cyndonia lays claim to Univa and its people are under Adair's jurisdiction. If I had to guess what the unrest is over, it is probably on the taxes that the people have to pay, since it would be the first time they have ever done so."

Ethan sat up straighter in the saddle. "Jousting?"

"Did you miss the part where they haven't had a tournament in years?" Marcus asked.

***

Thick, heavy, and sticky air made it hard to breathe. Though the sun was starting its descent, the heat of the day had settled all around the knights of the Dragon's Keep. Marvin was glad as the wooden gates that surrounded the town of Univa became clearer and clearer. Two knights in bronze stood at either side of the gates, long spears in their hands. Cyndondia's symbol, a red dragon guarding a crown on black, flapped slowly in the wind from a flagpole that stood behind the gates.

Spotting the Cyndonian knights, the Univan knights lowered their spears. One of them stepped forward, his face covered by his bronze helmet. "Halt, in the name of Sir Wellington, feudal lord over the town of Univa and loyal servant of Adair, King of Cyndonia."

Marvin put up his hand, causing his team to stop behind him. He then rode forward, alone to meet the Univan knights. "Greetings, knights of Univa. I am Marvin, leader of the Knights of the Dragon's Keep of Cyndonia. Adair has sent us here to quell the unrest which has been rising in your town."

The Univian knight who stepped forward audibly gasped and turned to his companion, frantically signaling him with a wave of his hand to open the gate. "Marvin the Brave!" He began, turning back to Marvin. "I am sorry I did not recognize you."

"Thank you," Marvin said politely, turning back to his team and motioning for them to follow him inside.

People littered the streets, rushing over to see the knights ride through. Marvin looked from face to face, taking them all in. What he noticed was hungry people, dressed in cheap clothing covered in dirt, and distrust painting their faces. Guardsmen and knights alike were spread out through the town square, taking up positions near the various tents where merchants, bakers, carpenters, and metalsmiths sold their wares.

Marvin felt a bit of unease as the people, seemed to take them in with a mixture of interest and disgust. The market, which was usually packed so full that one could hardly move was full of empty stalls and the people were able to walk without even coming close to brushing their neighbor. This was not the Univa he remembered from his days as a squire.

"Marvin," Vukashin whispered, riding close to him. "Something is wrong. Very wrong."

Marvin nodded. Stefan had said that the town had changed once Cyndonia had taken it over, but even the taxes shouldn't have crippled the people who lived here that badly. No. Instead, it was as if the heart of this town had been ripped out, leaving a gaping hole.

He stopped turning his horse to his knights. "Vukashin, take Ethan and Marcus to the Boar's Head, I will meet you there shortly. Stefan and I are going on to talk to Sir Wellington and see if we can't get any answers as to what is going on here."

"Yes, sir," Vukashin answered, bowing his head slightly. He turned his horse around and motioned for Ethan and Marcus to follow him.

Marvin nodded to Stefan who followed him onwards, the piercing stares of the citizens of Univa trained hard on their backs.

***

Vukashin led the way to Boar's Head, an old inn and bar. He and Marvin had stayed there when they were mere squires, attending a tournament in which their mentors were participating. The old inn, which had once stood as one of Univa's prized buildings, looked in need of desperate repair. The roof looked like it was sinking in. Ivy ran up the stone walls, which at one time were a light grey but now was darkened from dirt and grime. The boar, which had been painted on the door was faded, the tusks were gone. Vukashin frowned deeply as he dismounted.

He turned to Ethan, handing him his horse's reins. "Stay here, I will get a room for all of us," he directed to Ethan and Marcus.

Ethan and Marcus nodded. Ethan muttered under his breath, "this place isn't fit to keep noble knights such as we."

Vukashin entered the rundown inn. Strong scents of meat, mead, sweat, and mold hung in the air. The parlor was dark and gloomy. The tables, which Vukashin last remembered being full of knights and tradesmen, were now empty. The only souls in the building it seemed were the two men slouched over at the bar and the grisly of a man behind the bar counter.

Vukashin approached them, causing the rugged innkeeper to look up. The scowl over the man's face quickly dissipated as he realized who was coming towards him. "Vukashin? Is that you?" His husky voice rumbled.

"Barbos, it's been a while," Vukashin greeted. He took a seat at the bar a few seats away from the other two men. They looked over at him, staring him down with their red dilated eyes.

"Aye, it has," Barbos agreed, walking over to him. "The last time I saw yer, ye was just a pup, trailing behind your master. How is old Aegis?"

"Dead," Vukashin answered shortly.

Barbos blinked and then shook his head, a growl of a laugh passing his lips. "A hot-head that one." He then focused his attention on Vukashin, leaning in close so only he could hear him. "I am not sure why ye come back to these parts, but I wouldn't linger. There are a group of strangers that have been rowing up the city, gathering supporters, and ill-will towards Cyndonia."

"That is why I am here," Vukashin replied. He looked over at the two drunken men, who were nursing their ale. "I was hoping you had some rooms available," he finally said, raising his eyebrows at the two drunks.

One of them spit on the ground and sneered at Vukashin.

"I have two rooms available," Barbos said, standing up straight.

"Two? Surely you have more than that?" Vukashin questioned, looking around at the empty bar. "This place is a ghost town."

"Well, even ghosts need a proper floor to walk on and a roof to keep the elements out. Unfortunately, the Boar's Head has seen better days," Barbos groaned, looking up at the ceiling which was speckled with rotting boards.

Vukashin nodded. "It is sad to see Univa like this. The last I remember it was a place to behold. What happened? Where are all the people?"

"Wha' happened? Ye want to know wha' happened?" The man closest to him turned in his seat, raising his glass angrily as the words slurred out of his mouth. Ale sloshed over the sides of the mug and ran down the man's hand. He didn't seem to notice. "I'll tell yer what happened, savage. Cyndonia and that bastard of a king is what happened. He came in ere, took all our money, and now he and that pompous arrogant fat toad wipe d'ere asses with gold soft paper while we live in our own filth."

Vukashin slowly looked the man over. Red splotches decorated the man's cheeks, matching the large pimples right above his fat lip. His hair was disheveled, his clothes dirty, and Vukashin could smell the strong stench of body odor from him.

"Hmm, it seems Adair missed a few coins, as you still have enough to get drunk off of ale," Vukashin said simply. He turned to Barbos, "I'll take the rooms."

"Excuse me?" The second man roared. "How dare you talk to my friend like that!"

The man rose from his seat, knocking the chair straight backward. It clattered on the floor. The first man tried to rise but his legs failed him.

"You may wear the armor of a knight but it does not change the fact that you are nothing more than an a'jin," the second man bellowed, the veins in his neck popping out.

Vukashin's eyes narrowed but he took a deep breath and turned to leave. "I will see you later, Barbos."

"Don't turn your back when I am talking to you!" The second man continued, slamming his fist down on the bar. The loud boom rattled the dishes stored underneath the bar top.

Barbos looked between both men and finally said, "get ye drunk asses out of my inn, now!"

"I'm not done wit my drink," the first man answered, taking a long gulp.

"And I haven't put this worm back in his place," the second man answered. He cracked his knuckles and took another step towards Vukashin.

Looking him over, Vukashin said calmly, "it would be wise of you to back down, sir."

The man guffawed, his spit flying out of his mouth and his belly bouncing. "Wise? Listen to you! You think you know what is wise? What? Did your shaman tell you how to read the stars or how to tell the future by eating the dirt?"

"Only fools would challenge someone who clearly outmatches them," Vukashin answered, his voice dropping deeper into his chest.

"Fools?" The second man exclaimed. He turned back to his friend. "Hear what he called us, Jack? Fools? I think it is time to show this dung eating mutt who is boss around here."

The first man looked at him and then at Vukashin. "E' doesn't even carry a sward."

The second man nodded and then suddenly charged at Vukashin.

Swiftly, Vukashin sidestepped out of the man's path, then used his knee to collide with the man's stomach, bringing his elbow down on the man's back as he was forced up. The man fell to the floor with a heavy thud.

The first man rose to help his friend but his body was too far gone to be of any use. He simply fell to the ground. What was left of his ale quickly splashing out of his glass as it clinked across the floor.

"I'll see you later, Barbos," Vukashin said as he stepped over his adversary. The man groaned but didn't do anything to stop him.

"Yeah," Barbos said and sighed, "what a mess."


	12. Unrest

"Stay close to me," Marvin ordered Stefan as they rode through the town. Everywhere they looked they were met with hostile eyes and cold sneers. The way the men would brandish their hunting knives put Marvin on edge.

The knights' horses could feel the tension as well. Orkid and Stargazer's steps became hesitant and their ears were back, eyes bright and wild.

A grave look painted Stefan's face as he looked at Marvin. "It's worse than I imagined," he whispered. Readjusting his grips on the reins, Stefan nodded his head towards the various buildings that aligned the street. Broken windows left glass littered near their doors. Grudge and grime covering the outer walls. The people coming out of them looked ruggard and tired, bags hanging under their eyes.

Marvin kicked his horse into a trot, moving more quickly, anxious to meet Sir Wellington. They needed to come up with a plan to ease the people's distrust and discomfort. Hopefully, they weren't too late to do so.

The Wellington Manor sat on a hill above the town of Univa. It was made of brick, blackened from a fire that threatened the family during the Guardians' War. Ivy now climbed its walls, creating a beautiful green contrast against the black. An old statue of a knight on a horse stood outside the iron gates. His head, though, had been knocked off and lay at the statue's base. Vile words and X's were painted on the breastplate and over the eyes. 

A lone warrior approached them, donning very little armor and a chipped sword. Marvin brought Orkid to a halt as the guardsman approaching him raised his hand. "Sir Marvin the Brave, how long has it been?"

Relieved to hear a familiar and friendly voice, Marvin felt himself relax. "Saber! How have you been?" Dismounting, Marvin and Saber embraced each other.

"I am so glad you are here, my friend," Saber said, his voice was slow and tired, matching his red bloodshot eyes and the heavy lines on his face. Golden curly locks were held up in a ponytail on his head, save for the bangs which outlined his forehead.

"What happened here?" Marvin questioned, looking him over, concerned. "Where is your armor? Where is Basiliskfang, your sword?"

"Time has not been kind to me, I am afraid," Saber sighed. He looked down at the blade in his hand frowning deeply. "Eight moons ago I was sent here to help Sir Wellington quell a small band of rebels who were against the change in leadership of Univa. These knights..."Saber trailed off, shivering. "Marvin, they are not like normal knights. Their armor seems to be made out of the elements themselves; fire, wind, and earth. Their blades stronger than steel. I, along with some of my men, tried to fight off these men, end their influence on the town. But we lost. I saw the presence of Death. While they let him claim the other men, they spared me as a message to Cyndonia. I had to report that they were in charge of Univa now."

Marvin felt a chill run down his spine. He remembered hearing something from Adair about teaching a knight the meaning of courage, but he had never connected it to Saber or Univa.

"Adair seemed excited by the prospect of the knights and their strange power. He told me to return to Univa, as was my duty, and defend this town and its feudal lord with my life. I begged him to send another knight," Saber's cheeks blushed as the truth came from his lips. 

"Marvin, I was afraid, I wanted him to let me go. I wanted to live a simpler life. But he refused. Saying once a knight always a knight. As punishment for my cowardice, he sent me back here along with more of his guards. Their presence hasn't changed anything and even now these strange knights of no allegiance threaten to revolt along with the whole town." Saber looked down at his feet.

"Saber," Marvin shook his head. "I am so sorry."

"Did these strange knights happen to have stones hanging around their necks...precious gems?" Stefan questioned, riding over to them.

Saber looked at Stefan, distrust was clear on his face. "Who are you? I do not believe we have met," Saber said. He looked from Marvin to Stefan.

"Do not worry, Saber. This is Stefan, a mage of the king's and a personal friend of mine."

Saber visibly relaxed, his shoulders dropping and his face brightening with a smile. "A friend of Marvin's is a friend of mine." He took Stefan's hand and then said, "to answer your question, yes. They did have strange stones, one of emerald, one of ruby, and one of crystal. But why do you ask?"

"As I feared," Stefan remarked. He looked to Marvin. "I fear we may have found what we have been seeking, the Stones of Sanicure are here."

Marvin nodded slowly, feeling both nervous and somewhat curious. If they were dealing with the Stones of Sanicure, perhaps then they could solve both of Adair's problems quickly. He felt his fear rising though as Shacor's red eyes glared at him through his memories, the creature's haunting roar resounding in his ears. If they were dealing with the Guardians, then they were at an extreme disadvantage.

"May we go talk to Sir Wellington?" Marvin questioned, looking to the manor.

Saber nodded and motioned them to follow him. They walked through the iron gates and through the garden which was overgrown with weeds. Looking at the weeds, Marvin sighed. He had a bad feeling the feudal lord would be of little help to their problem.

***

Marcus guffawed, slamming his mug of ale down, causing the liquid to splash over his hands. His cheeks were red with laughter and tears leaked from his eyes. "I can't believe you..." He wheezed, taking in a deep breath. "Got attacked by two drunken men and then you ended up knocking them to the floor. You weren't even drunk and ended up in a bar fight!"

Vukashin rolled his eyes, watching through the window as people passed by the small tavern they found to take a rest in. It was pretty much empty, quiet, and the only other sound than Marcus's laughter was the scurrying of rats on the floor. He breathed in, trying to calm himself. Marcus didn't know when to shut up. This town was already on edge due to rebellion and rumors that a Cyndonian knight was beating up on drunken men would not be a good image.

"I hate this place," Ethan whined, dropping his head on the table. "Everything is old, smells like animal manure, and everyone looks like they have a stick up their ass."

"Would you two refrain from opening your mouths?" Vukashin growled, rising from the table. He needed some fresh air and to separate himself from these two. He could see the woman, who was cleaning off one of the tables, sneaking glances at them. With the way these two were talking, there was no telling what she was thinking.

"Where are you going?" Ethan asked, raising his head as Vukashin walked towards the door.

Vukashin waved his hand at them and walked outside. The bright sun beat down on him as he stepped out, the air heavy with dirt and moisture. He already felt uncomfortable and sticky, but it beat sitting inside with his two comrades.

A large crowd was gathering near the blacksmith shop on the corner. The rising sound of a voice carrying its way over to Vukashin. 

He heard the door open behind him, Ethan rushing to catch up. "What's going on there," he questioned, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

"Let's find out," Vukashin answered He moved towards the crowd, Ethan on his heels.

As the Cyndonian knights approached, the crowd began to quiet down. Hard stares fell on the knights. Vukashin ignored them and pushed through the crowd, creating a path to the center where a stage of wooden crates had been crafted. The man on the crates flashed them a mischievous grin. The sun highlighted his fiery red hair and brought out the deep green of his eyes. Freckles ran across his face. They were dark and highly contrasting against the lightness of his skin. "Good day, gentlemen," the man greeted, giving the knights a bow.

"Good day," Vukashin answered. "Don't let our presence stop your speech, I am interested in what you have to say." The dark knight felt Ethan tensing up behind him. He was obviously not used to being the outcast.

"Thank you for the invitation to continue," the man answered, arching an eyebrow at Vukashin. He then looked across the sea of faces and patted the sword on his side. "Do you hear that, my friends? This Cyndonian knight, says that I can continue." He looked back at Vukashin and appraised him. "Interesting choice, Adair, interesting choice." Hopping down off of his crate, he walked over to Vukashin. "You are originally from one of the nomadic tribes right?"

Vukashin grit his teeth but didn't answer.

"Let me guess? Dark, dark skin. Dark as sin," the man said, taking a few steps back. "You are too dark to be an Inka. Too tall to be one of the Lakol. Not thinly built like one of the Arjas. You must be from the tribe of Rishka."

"I was raised in Cyndonia, not among my tribe," Vukashin said matter-of-factly.

"Right, because that changes who you are," The man said with a wink. "I wasn't raised in my home either, a'jin."

Vukashin chuckled. "Usually, the loudest are the weakest. You can safely ignore them," Vukashin turned from the man. "Nothing more than a nail that hasn't been hammered down yet."

He could feel the man scowl. "Excuse me?"

"Let's go," Vukashin said to Ethan.

"Don't turn your back from me, servants of Cyndonia. That tyrant of yours has broken this city. The rich get richer while the poor are kicked aside, thrown into a never-ending sea of poverty. And you tell me that I am weak?"

Vukashin stopped and turned to look at him. "Our king created this poverty?"

"Yes!" The man answered and his reply was echoed by the crowd. "Your king has put incredibly high taxes on everything. Which is why no kingdom wants to trade here anymore. With no trade, this town has been stripped of its income. Now we are left with this." He motioned widely to the city. "The children sing less. The nights are longer, filled with hunger. The people of Univa have lost their fire, the spirit that drives them to reach for more."

"It's not Adair's fault," Ethan remarked. "Your people don't know how to handle their money."

"Or their liquor," Vukashin echoed with a laugh. "Spending what you have on ale seems like a pretty poor choice, don't you think?"

The stranger looked at Ethan and Vukashin, considering their words. He then laughed a pitiful laugh, shaking his head and looking at his shoes. "Incredible. Blame the sick for their disease. Blame the dying for taking their last breath. Can you blame a man for trying to drown his sorrows when all he hears when he comes home is his children crying because they are hungry or sick?"

"Still, spending your allowance on drink when your child is hungry or sick seems to be a poor choice," Ethan said, rolling his eyes.

The man shook his head. "I will never be able to make you all see it our way, will I?"

Vukashin arched an eyebrow. "We have come to this town to ease your discomfort and distrust in us. King Adair cares for all of his subjects."

"Lies!" The man yelled. "You," he pointed to Vukashin. "Should know that more than anyone here? Does he defend you when people call out your lineage? Do people in your beloved kingdom treat you with respect?"

Vukashin didn't answer. He just stared. It was true people treated him differently than the other knights. But he still did have it better than others of his kind.

"Soon, the people of this town are going to gain the respect and treatment they deserve! Our woes will not last long, isn't that right?"

The crowd raised their voices, turning into an uproar that shook Vukashin to his very core.

Ethan reached for his sword, his eyes narrowing. "I am going to stop you," he seethed.

Vukashin grabbed Ethan's arm, holding it tightly. "Leave this town," he said to the man, his gaze not leaving the stranger's face. "If you know what is best for you."

The man met Vukashin's gaze.

"The rest of you should disperse unless you want the wrath of your king and sovereign on you," Vukashin said, releasing Ethan's arm and looking at the individual faces in the crowd.

The crowd nervously looked at the man in the center who waved them off. A smile never leaving his lips, his eyebrows cocked as if he was enjoying himself. "People of Univa," he said, taking a few steps back. "The grounds below us shake with rage. The wind howls in protest at the treatment of our people. The fire in our hearts, our rage, burns with passion. A passion to be free of the chains which bound our souls to this forsaken existence. We will make this land ours once again. The Guardians of Sanicure will rise. And they will be on our side!"

***

"You may enter," Saber said, opening the heavy doors.

Marvin and Stefan entered the spacious room and was immediately assaulted with the smell of cooked meat. The rich smells caused Stefan's stomach to rumble, and the old mage wished that they had more than deer jerky and bread for breakfast.

A long table stretched out in the middle of the hall, filled with delectable dishes. At the far end was Sir Wellington, bent over and stuffing his face with his chubby hands. He looked up and Stefan had to do everything in his power not to betray his disgust. The man's face was swollen and covered in warts. He looked like a toad who had been turned into a human. His head had thin patches of light brown hair. Beady black eyes stared at them for a moment, obviously insulted that anyone would disrupt his meal. 

"Well?" Sir Wellington asked, chunks of food flying from his mouth. "What can I do for you, Ser Marvin the Brave?" His eyes went down to the roasted chicken on his plate. He picked up another leg and took a large bite, meat hanging out of his mouth.

"We were sent by Adair to help you solve the unease of your people and earn back their loyalty," Marvin answered, approaching the table. His footsteps made a slight echo on the grey tile floor.

The feudal lord raised his hand, his fingers glistening in grease. "They are nothing more than mindless subjects. Just use a bit of force on them and they will quiet down soon enough. Do it quickly, though. I am tired of their constant grumblings."

"They are your people," Marvin said slowly. Stefan could see the shock and utter disgust written on the tightly drawn lines on his companion's face.

The feudal lord took another bite of chicken, this time sucking the meat off the end of the bone. He smacked his lips before slowly licking each finger. "They are nothing more than worthless pawns, workers, for the good of our kingdom."

"I don't think you understand your predicament," Stefan began walking forward. "Your people are threatening a revolt." He felt himself shaking, the anger in him flaring.

Glancing up from his meal, the feudal lord stared Stefan down. Stefan crossed his arms, hiding his hands under his long robe sleeves. "Who are you?" The feudal lord barked, appraising him with a critical eye.

"My name is Stefan the Wise, mage for King Adair of Cyndonia," Stefan said, trying to hold his temper at bay. "I have reason to believe that the Knights of Sanicure may be planning an attack on Univa, to lead the revolt."

The feudal lord blinked. Stefan felt Marvin's eyes on him too. 

Suddenly, the feudal lord roared with laughter, his great gullet shaking, food flying out his mouth. His eyes gleamed with tears. He choked for a moment, giving a great cough and shaking the table as his fists slammed down on the surface. His plate of food rattled, causing bits to fall off the plate onto Sir Wellington's lap. Not that the fat lord noticed. 

"My dear old man, you seem to be suffering from confusion or memory loss. The Sanicurians are dead. Buried six-feet underground. Their ashes are scattered throughout the earth. They are no longer a threat to anyone."

Stefan gripped his arms under his sleeves. Never before had he seen a man so nonchalant about the well-being of his people. Even cruel leaders knew how to throw his people some scraps every now and again. No one could make it without allies. But it was clear, watching this man eat his own body weight in food, that there was no love for him here. No loyalty. 

Stefan looked at Saber, who watched on with utter hatred. Not even the men who served him could save him.

"Sir Wellington," Marvin began slowly. "As the leader of the Knights of the Dragon's Keep, Adair has trusted me to help you mend the rift between you and your people. We need their loyalty, just as you do."

Sir Wellington looked up at Marvin. "Then you better do something about it."

Stefan could see Marvin's muscles stiffen. The knight turned from him. "Enjoy your meal," he said curtly and walked past Saber.

Giving one more glance to the giant toad, Stefan followed Marvin out. Saber close on their heels.

As they reached the courtyard outside, the sun was beginning to set, casting an orange glow over the land. Marvin sighed and looked at Stefan and Saber. "Well, that was productive," he said with a heavy sigh.

Saber shook his head. "I hate that man. But we need to do something, if we lose the love of the people, I fear for the outcome. Cyndonia may be losing a town and the Univian knights are not much help. Many of them have lost their loyalty to Cyndonia and are ready to turn to the rebels. Not that I blame them. No one should be treated as a mere dog."

"Dogs," Stefan huffed. "He treats people as if they are nothing more than maggots. There to eat his flesh or steal his food. No. We need to solve this problem without Sir Wellington. Give them another reason to keep the peace."


	13. To Bring Back the Glory Days

Marvin and Stefan rode back into the city of Univa in silence. Cold stares grated against their already frayed nerves, sending chills down their spines despite the aggressive heat of the day. Frustration and exhaustion churned Marvin's stomach. Anxiety pounded against his head. He wanted nothing more than to lie down in a bed for a few hours, but he knew that luxury would not be granted to him. Not until he figured a way to get this city back on the right path.

"Good heavens," Stefan said suddenly, pulling his horse to a stop. The old gelding whinnied, shying and tossing his head.

The man, who had rushed from around the corner, stopped suddenly to avoid running into Stefan's horse. He was panting heavily, sweat covering his brow and plastering his fire-orange hair to his forehead. He looked from Marvin to Stefan, taking them in with both surprise and panic. "More of them?" His voice squeaked out as he tried to catch his breath.

"Easy there lad," Stefan said calmly, patting Stargazer's neck. "You could have gotten trampled."

"Sorry," the man replied, straightening up. He cast a glance over his shoulder. "You wouldn't be able to help me, would you?"

Marvin dismounted, patting Orkid on the neck. "What seems to be the problem?" He felt an odd sense of hope. Perhaps this would be the first seed of trust they could sow within the Univan people.

"Well," he said, taking a deep breath. "I am being chased by some lunatics, and I could really use some support."

"Of course," Marvin said. He touched the hilt of his blade, looking past the stranger and at the flowing crowd of people as they passed. No one looked like they were after the man.

"That is very kind of you," the stranger said, nodding and taking one final deep breath. A bright smile painted his lips. "I guess not all of you Cyndonian knights are bad."

Marvin frowned. "I know the leadership this town has been under hasn't been the most supportive, but trust me, you are all important to Adair." He turned his attention on the man's face, who was looking at him with mild amusement. "That is why my team and I are here, to help."

"Marvin!" Vukashin's voice carried through the air.

Marvin squinted, spotting his knight maneuvering as fast as he could through the crowd.

"Don't let that man go! Seize him!"

Marvin felt his stomach painfully drop. His reaction, though, was too slow. The man rushed forward, bowling into Marvin with his shoulder, sending the knight to the ground. Orkid backed up, whinnying and giving a half rear.

"Marvin!" Stefan called. The old quickly tried to grab Orkid's reins, but the stranger beat him to it.

Pulling himself into the saddle, the man shortened the length of head Orkid had, forcing her to obey to his will, and turn around. Kicking his heels into her side, the mare rose to her hind legs, striking the air before bolting back towards the manor. "Thank you for the help!" The man shouted back.

Scrambling to his feet Marvin turned to Stefan who nodded. Offering him his hand, Marvin pulled himself up behind the mage. "Come on, Stargazer," Stefan said.

The old gelding took off after Orkid. People scrambled to get out of the way as both horses galloped down the road. They wound around the various streets, the stranger trying to throw them by changing direction with each fork in the road. Narrowly missing a group of women, Stefan was forced to slow Stargazer's speed. The old stallion was panting heavily, sweat coating his long neck and shoulders. 

With dread, Marvin watched as his horse gradually put more and more distance between them. Stargazer simply did not have the agility to keep up with his mare.

An elderly man leading an ox-drawn cart filled with pottery stepped out from an alleyway. His eyes grew big and his face pale as he realized the peril he had literally stepped into. The stranger urged Orkid faster. The mare leaped into the air, clearing the cart and continuing on down the road.

Stargazer on the other hand slid to a halt. Rearing on his hind legs, the old gelding screamed and backed up. Marvin lost his balance and once again found himself thrown to the ground. Tears welled in his eyes as he felt the jolt run through his rump and up his spine. His teeth smashed painfully together.

Stefan managed to stay saddled, his hands gripping hard onto his horse's long gray mane. "Easy boy," the old mage called, pulling back on the reins. The old horse aggressively shook his head and stomped his hooves, but nonetheless, calmed.

The old man who owned the cart had fallen to his knees, shaking. He looked at his wares, relief flooding over his face as he realized nothing had been broken. "Thank, God," he breathed, holding his chest.

"I am so sorry," Stefan said, dismounting and helping the old man to his feet.

The man waved them off. "I should have looked before I stepped out. No harm done. My wife will be happy that her vases made it out without a scratch."

"Marvin," Vukashin said, panting, heavily. He stopped behind his commander, a heavy frown on his face. "Are you alright?"

"Fine," Marvin responded through gritted teeth. With a groan, Marvin fought through the burning pain that was shooting through his legs and rear-end and stood. He felt his stomach lurch and his head spin.

Grabbing Marvin's shoulder's, Vukashin helped Marvin steady himself. Concern was written all over the dark knight's face. 

"Did you get him?" Ethan's voice called, as he caught up.

Vukashin huffed, watching as the old man with his cart moved past them and onto his business. "Does it look like we have him?"

"He stole my horse," Marvin said slowly. Looking past where the man with the cart had been. Orkid and the stranger were nothing more than a small dot on the horizon, heading out to the fields that surrounded Univa.

"Damn," Ethan clenched his fist.

"Who was he?" Stefan questioned.

"I don't know his name," Vukashin answered. "All I know is that he is stirring up trouble with the people here. I think he may be the leader of the small rebellion which has formed."

Ethan nodded gravely. "He also mentioned something about the Guardians of Sanicure. You don't think..."

With a heavy heart, Marvin turned to Vukashin and Ethan. "Take us back to the Boar's Head Inn, I think we need to talk about everything and come up with a plan."

"I feel that would be the best," Stefan said, walking Stargazer over to Marvin. "If this man does have possession of one of the stones, who knows what power he could wield."

* * *

Seated around a wooden round table in the corner, Vukashin was having trouble hiding his aggravation. Marcus's booming laughter echoed throughout the inn's lobby, grabbing the attention of the large woman cleaning the floor. Though she and Barbos were the only two souls around at the moment, it still had Vukashin on edge. He trusted Barbos but he didn't know the woman. What if she was on the 'Pest's' side, as Ethan deemed their mystery rebel.

"First a bar fight and now a mad chase through the streets after a one-man army against Cyndonia," Marcus hiccuped. He wiped a tear from his eye. Taking a deep breath, he set down his mug of ale before he spilled anymore on his tunic. His eyes were bloodshot but his smile was full of blissful happiness. "To make this story even better, we have a feudal lord who behaves like a pig in front of a trough, and a leader whose horse got stollen by said one-man army." Marcus shook his head. "Someone should really write this in a book."

"It's not funny, Marcus," Ethan grumbled, tapping his fingers on the table. "We need to find a way to rectify this situation."

"Well, I am going to rectify my situation," Marcus said standing up. He had to use the table to steady himself, giving his comrades a goofy grin. "If you know what I mean?"

As he left to go relieve himself, Vukashin looked at Marvin.

The knight was staring out the grime-covered window, watching the streets as if he could make anything out of them. The darkness combined with the dirt on the window made that task impossible.

Marvin seemed to notice Vukashin's gaze on him, as he blinked and then met his second in command's eyes. Vukashin sighed and then said, "so tell me again what the feudal lord said, now that Marcus's loud mouth is gone."

Marvin offered a smile but it quickly faded from his lips. "He basically said the people here are nothing more to him than pawns to do his bidding. It was Adair's job to keep them in line." He clenched and unclenched his fists. "I have never met a man so uninterested or unconcerned with the state of his people."

"He will be concerned though," Stefan spoke up, "when his people revolt and burn his mammoth body at the stake."

"Well now we know why the whole town is under a dark cloud of disrepair," Ethan commented. Intertwining his fingers, the blond knight looked at the lady behind the bar. "I wish we could take this town back in time, back to her glory days, and remind its people the potential they have. Like, bring back the jousts, the sword fighting competitions. Anything to break the sadness and monotony that these people call their lives."

Vukashin blinked and looked at Ethan. "That was probably the smartest thing that has ever come out of your mouth."

Ethan beamed and then the light faded as Vukashin's words sunk in, "hey..."

"What if we did put on a tournament? Sent word to the other large cities of Valente; the Kingdom of Dominion, Crestar, back to Cyndonia, for example. Tell them that there will be a tournament here. It will give these people a chance to revive what made Univa special and open trade back up. Show them that their world doesn't have to end because someone else is in power," Vukashin said, looking to each of his comrades.

Marvin nodded slowly looking to Stefan who had a bright smile on his face. "That could work," the mage said. "Though," he breathed in deeply. "If there is a threat of rebellion, bringing in outside forces who may be waiting to strike at Cyndonia's weak points could be a potential disaster waiting to happen. We will have to be vigilant."

"Vigilant is my middle name," Ethan said, proudly puffing up his chest.

Vukashin resisted the urge to roll his eyes and looked at Marvin. "Of course, we would need the feudal lord onboard before for this plan to even happen."

Marvin nodded. "I can try to talk to him again, see if I can persuade him to let this plan proceed."

"Mention that there will be a grand feast and he will probably comply," Stefan remarked.

Ethan chuckled and Vukashin couldn't help but smirk. He was starting to like the old mage.

"Besides," Vukashin looked at Barbos who was approaching them with more ale. "It would bring our old friend here some more business."

"I don't know what yer talking about," Barbos said as he set the mugs down. "But I like the sound of it."


	14. Understanding

Soft hoof beats broke through the gentle silence. Stefan kept the reins short on his horse and searched the far-reaching fields past Sir Wellington's Manor. He wasn't sure what he would find, or if he would find anything, but he had to look.

He halted his horse, giving the aged gelding's neck a pat. "Beautiful night isn't it?" He commented. Allowing his eyes to look up at the sky, he traced the pattern of the stars above. 

The babbling of a brook could be heard in the distance along with the croaking of frogs and the chirping of the grasshoppers. Dragonflies zoomed past his head, tickling his ears. Unable to stop himself, the old mage felt his body tense, his shoulders coming up to protect his ears. "I wish you would stop doing that," Stefan remarked, rubbing his right ear and looking around. The dragonflies gave him no reply.

With a click of his teeth, the old mage encouraged Stargazer to walk towards the brook. As they made it to the bank, the grass gave way to dark sand and pebbles. He halted Stargazer and dismounted.

A gentle breeze carried the smells from Univa on the wind. Sweat mixed with the sweet smell of bread wrinkled Stefan's nose. Along with the salty and mossy smell from the brook, the night air smelled anything but pleasant.

Looking down into the water, Stefan saw the outline of his reflection but the details were hidden by the darkness. Even with the moon's bright light, the murky waters betrayed nothing. Reaching into his pouch, the old mage removed a dolphin-shaped sapphire. The stone softly glowed in his hand and the water suddenly became still, as if it was listening. "It's been a long time," Stefan whispered, closing his fingers around the stone, "but the moment is almost upon us, Magik."

Stefan stepped into the water, but his feet never got wet. The water parted and encircled him as he stepped further into the brook. "I wonder how well I have retained my skills after all of these years," he said thoughtfully. Giving a twist with his free hand, the water began to swirl around him, creating a spiral. Holding his hand out flat, the spiral straightened and rushed towards his hand. It froze as it touched his skin, hardening into a blade of ice.

Stefan placed the stone back into his pouch. He then slowly swung the blade, testing its weight. Once he was sure he knew where the balance was, he began stabbing and slicing the air. At first, he felt off-balanced and his muscles ached. Slowly, though, his muscles remembered the feeling of holding a sword. The adrenaline that came with the prospect of battle came rushing back. His steps became more confident, the blade moving faster and more accurately. He spun around, cutting through the wave of water that rose against him.

As he turned to do another set of drills, a flash caught his eye. He barely reacted in time. Raising his hand, a shield of water sprung up to block the blast of fire aimed at him. The water hissed as it turned to steam. Stefan felt the got moisture leave its mark on his skin and robe. He narrowed his eyes, trying to make out a figure through the silver light catching the steam's cloud.

A man rode slowly approached on a chestnut stallion. His face was covered by a helmet that was painted a fire red along with the rest of his armor. The Sanicurian symbol, a roaring lion, was on his chest plate in gold. Around the knight's neck was a silver chain with a phoenix-shaped ruby. Stefan could easily make out the stone's glow as it grew brighter as the man rode in closer. The man pulled a blade from his sheath, and held it out to Stefan, challenging him.

Stefan shook his head, a smile painting his wrinkled face. "Put your sword down, son," the old mage began, sitting down a seat of ice that rose out the water. "You still have a lot to learn."

***

On Ethan's horse, Marvin rode alongside Vukashin back towards the feudal lord's castle. The night was peaceful. The townspeople had all returned to their houses, leaving the streets deserted. An owl called under the cover of the night, joining the orchestra of crickets that were singing their lullaby. The temperature had dropped considerably, and a light breeze made it feel almost chilly.

Vukashin, Marvin could tell, was on high alert. He sat upright on his horse, stiff as a board, scanning the shadows for any sign of danger. However, Marvin feared they wouldn't find the man or his horse, not this night. It would be foolish for him to come back a second time. He just hoped that the man took care of Orkid.

"Do you think Stefan will find the man or your horse?" Vukashin whispered as if he was afraid to disturb the sleeping town.

"No," Marvin sighed. "I appreciate him for looking though. Just as I appreciate Ethan for letting me use his horse." He gave the golden stallion a pat. The horse's ears were back. Obviously the horse was not pleased to be out for another time this day.

As they approached the gates of the feudal lord's estate, Saber waved to them. He seemed fidgety, shuffling his feet in the dirt and constantly looking over his shoulder. "I saw a light," he announced, pointing past the castle, "it looked like it came from the brook."

"Could be some travelers," Vukashin suggested, scanning the horizon. He saw nothing but darkness.

"It was a quick light for a fire," Saber answered, shaking his head.

"Maybe they realized their folly. The grass is so dead that the place would go up in a blaze," Marvin said, remembering Stefan's warning from a few nights before.

"Perhaps," Saber said, letting out a breath of air. "You must forgive me. Ever since I encountered those knights, the sight of fire makes me jumpy."

Marvin gave him a sympathetic smile and then motioned to the feudal lord's castle, "shall we?"

Saber nodded. He waited as Marvin and Vukashin dismounted before leading them towards the gardens.

Sir Wellington was waddling around the path that wove between white rose bushes, a thin woman wrapped around his arm. As they approached, the feudal lord halted and said something to the lady. She bowed and then left him, heading towards the manor.

"Ahh, Marvin," Sir Wellington said, outstretching his arms. The sleeves to his doublet seemed ready to burst at the seams. He looked at Saber, waving the knight off. 

Saber gave an awkward smile and then retreated to the entrance of the gardens, taking his place next to a tall bush.

Vukashin looked around, taking in the various rose bushes, perennial plants, and ornamental statues. This was the most beautiful place he had seen here, even if there were weeds growing every which way.

"Who is he?" Sir Wellington questioned, his nose scrunching up in disgust at the sight of Vukashin.

"I am-"

"I did not ask you to speak," Sir Wellington snapped at the darkn knight.

Vukashin instantly fell silent but held the fuedal lord's gaze. Marvin could feel the walls coming up around his comrade. He knew his friend wouldn't betray his feelings, especially not in front of this man.

"This," Marvin said, taking in a deep breath, "is Vukashin. He is a trusted knight of Adair's and my second in command. You can rest assured that he is a knight of great caliber and honor."

"Ah," Sir Wellington said, giving Vukashin a critical look over. "He looks like a knight but reeks of a mutt. I don't want him in my presence. Tell him to go watch the gates with the other mongrel."

Before Marvin could even say anything, Vukashin turned on his heels and headed towards Saber. His fists clenching and unclenching.

Marvin bit his lip and turned to face Sir Wellington. "Let's get down to business, shall we?"

"Yes," Sir Wellington nodded. He motioned with his hand for Marvin to follow him. Together they walked, or the in the feudal lord's case waddled through the gardens.

At first, they walked in complete silence. Marvin kept his focus forward, watching out for overgrown vines that twisted along the short iron fence and out into the path. The feudal lord kept eyeing him as if waiting for him to trip. Marvin didn't give him that satisfaction.

"This garden is in a sad state, is it not?" Sir Wellington said, pausing a moment. His fat fingers gingerly touched the petal of a white rose. The petal, despite the harsh summer, was pristine and white. "I make sure the roses are watered," he continued. "The weeds and foliage from the bushes though, have busted through their barriers and are now threatening to destroy my precious flowers."

Marvin didn't say anything. What was there to say when a man cared more for the vegetation in his garden than the people whom he was supposed to lead and defend?

"I know you think me a cruel man, Marvin. And perhaps it is so. But, these flowers never judged me. Just as my mother never judged me. She loved white roses, which is why I made sure to keep them well cared for, by providing them plenty of water. However, it is too hot during the day for me to destroy the weeds that overrun their home. So their beauty is masked by the greed of the plants around it." Sir Wellington looked at Marvin, his eyes shining with tears.

"Why not get one of your servants to care for the garden?"

"Because then I would be losing my cooks or maids. There is a lot of work that has to be done to serve a man of my stature and a house of that size," Sir Wellington answered.

Marvin allowed his eyes to wander through the garden. An idea struck him.

"Sir," he began, taking in a deep breath. "My knights and I had an idea about how to begin opening the door of trust between you and the people of Univa. Why not return the town to her glory days and start jousting hosting tournaments again."

"Because the tournaments cost money," Sir Wellington snapped. "My house should not be expected to foot the bill of every tournament for this land, regardless of whether it brings in trade or not. The people don't want higher taxes but they expect me to pay their way."

"Why not get them to pay you back in another way," Marvin said slowly. He drew his sword. Sir Wellington backed up a few steps, his eyes wide.

Marvin sliced through a heavy vine that had wound its way around a small marble statue of an angel. Picking up the vine, he handed it to Sir Wellington. The feudal lord took it, blinking.

"I don't follow," Sir Wellington admitted after a few moments of awkward silence.

"Get some of the people to help you restore your garden. Your mother's life will be honored, the white roses will be the highlight of this garden once again, and you can rest easier. Give the people their lives back and you will find fewer weeds and more roses."

Sir Wellington looked at Marvin, curiously. "And there would be a feast, I assume?"

"A feast fit to feed a king," Marvin answered.

"Make it a feast to fit a god, and you have yourself a deal," Sir Wellington stuck his hand out.

With a feeling of relief, Marvin shook the fuedal lord's hand.

***

The Knight of Fire stared Stefan down. A familiar voice spoke, "How did you come about the Divine Stone of Water?"

"Easy, young knight of Sanicure," Stefan said calmly. He intertwined his fingers and sat back against the seat of ice. He could feel the coldness seeping through his robes and gently touching his back.

"Then answer me, old man," the man growled. He dismounted his horse and approached the water. Though Stefan couldn't see his eyes, he could feel them on him.

"I got my stone the same way you got yours," Stefan answered with a smile. "It was passed down to me by my predecessor, just as he received it from his."

"Liar," the knight snapped. "That's not possible. All of the knights of Sanicure are dead, save me and my companions. We are all that is left of the great kingdom, but we will rebuild it."

Stefan shook his head. "No, that's not true."

The Knight of Fire opened the palm of his hand, calling forth a fireball. He threw it at Stefan but the old mage merely flicked his hand. Another shield of water rushed up to douse the flame. More steam hissed and climbed into the night sky.

"Don't play with fire, boy," Stefan said sternly. "One of us could get burned, and I highly doubt it will be me."

"Give me the Divine Stone of Water, and this can all end," the knight answered, summoning another ball of fire.

Stefan sighed and rose. The chair of ice he was sitting in immediately melted back into the brook. More water circled around Stefan and then shot out towards the Knight of Fire. The knight threw his fireball, causing some of the water to evaporate but it wasn't enough. The rest engulfed him into a spiraling sphere, leaving only his head out.

"Please, calm down," Stefan said, coming face to face with the knight. He reached up and took the knight's helmet in his hands. Gently, he pulled the helmet off and was met with the bright green eyes of the stranger who stole Marvin's horse. "I am not your enemy. I want to see Sanicure rise again, as much as you do." He met the man's eyes.

The hurt and rage disappeared from the young man's face and was replaced with curiosity. "Who are you?" He asked, looking Stefan over.

"In due time I will reveal who I am, but now is too soon," Stefan answered. He stepped back into the brook. The water slowly climbed up his robes, encasing the mage.

"I don't understand," the man yelled out.

"Soon, Blaine, son of Cael the Knight of Fire, you will."


	15. Echo

Saber looked at Vukashin, not sure what to say to the dark knight. A thick wall of silence stood between both warriors as they stood guard while their leaders talked. The dark knight, though he tried to hide his displeasure, couldn't hide the slight downward pull of his lips or the tenseness in his stance.

Smiling slightly to himself, Saber felt a twinge of guilt. For the past eight months, he had been forced to live with the heaviness of disgrace and dishonor. He knew the men under him made fun of his cowardice. He knew that Sir Wellington didn't think very highly of him either. The only thing that brought his men to heel was the fear of Adair's wrath. There was no respect or trust between his men and himself. He heard their whispers, taunts, and jabs at his expense. Even though they never said a mean word to his face, Saber still felt their words slowly stabbing him to death.

He was losing faith in himself.

If he felt this way, he could only imagine how Vukashin felt.

The dark knight, through years of hard work and proving himself in battle, had won the respect of Adair and the Knights of the Dragon's Keep. But like Saber, the people didn't respect him. They saw him as less. A nasty guard dog with formidable teeth. Still, the knight continued on his path. His eyes always set forward, their words slicing into his skin but never slowing him down. Not once had Saber ever seen or heard of the knight lashing back. But he could see the weight of it all in his eyes. How long would it take for him to break?

"Beautiful night, isn't it?" Saber finally said, breaking the silence.

His attempt was met with a huff from the knight.

Saber nodded slowly, accepting the unspoken request for silence.

He allowed his gaze to return over the land. Harsh darkness was broken by the soft light of the path lanterns, lighting a way for visitors and the manor's residents to see by. The fields beyond were full of singing crickets and the wind whistling through the grass. Saber felt a sense of peace run over him. Maybe Marvin and Vukashin had been right about the flash of fire being a traveler.

Allowing his eyes to leave the fields he looked up at the sky, tracing the constellations he knew: The big ladle and the little ladle, the knight and his sword, his winged horse a few stars over. He remembered his father telling him of how the knight had been granted the horse as a favor from God. The knight was tasked to sow the gap between darkness and light, bringing them back together. However, the knight became greedy, realizing he could steal the light of stars for himself. Instead of sowing the gap back together, he removed his sword and tried to make the gap larger. Dismounting, he went about his task but his winged steed took the moment to run through the skies. The knight became stuck among the very light he was trying to steal, his horse always too far for him to reach.

A bright blast of orange caught Saber's attention. He blinked, thinking he only imagined it, but it was followed by another.

Vukashin removed the bow that was slung over his back. Pulling an arrow out of his quiver he slowly approached his horse which was tethered near the gates.

"Vukashin," Saber whispered. He looked back to Marvin and Sir Wellington, who were looking at the white rose bushes. They hadn't noticed the strange event.

"Damnit," Saber groaned and drew his blade.

Speed walking, he caught up to Vukashin.

"You should stay back," Vukashin said without looking at him.

"But why?"

"In case this is nothing more than a distraction," Vukashin answered, pulling himself into the saddle.

"But Marvin-"

"Marvin is a great knight but he is only one man. He can't fight an army alone."

Saber sighed, looking back at Marvin and Sir Wellington. They just shook hands and were now approaching the gazebo that sat towards the back of the garden, surrounded by rose bushes. If someone were to attack them, Vukashin was right, Marvin wouldn't know until they were surrounded.

Cursing, he nodded and turned to Vukashin. "Be careful."

"As should you," Vukashin answered. Turning the horse with a gentle tug of the reins, he gave one last look to Saber.

Saber stepped back and watched as the knight took off towards the brook. Fear made his sword heavy in his hand, anxiousness made his chest tight and his lungs scream, but a fire was stirring in his belly. Should there be a fight, he would give his life. For either way, it was already lost.

***

Vukashin slowed his steed down from a gallop to a slow walk as he approached the brook. The moon's silver veil gently brushed the water's surface and sparkled on the rocks below. The dying grass swayed gently to the soft song of the wind and the lapping of the water on the shore. Dismounting, Vukashin held tight to his bow. He was ready for someone to come charging out of the darkness.

Squatting down, he studied the sandy shore, taking in the light imprints of feet. "Whoever was here," Vukashin said to his horse, "stepped into the water." He traced the imprint with his hand. "Average size feet and light. So an older man, perhaps."

Vukashin rose and turned. A lone horse was grazing a few yards away. The animal showed no signs of fear nor agitation. It seemed content, despite the fact that it was still tacked. A deep frown pulled at his lips, where is his rider?

Knocking an arrow, Vukashin crept forward. He only made it a few steps before another odd sight drew his eye. A patch of grass had its edges darkened and frayed. It was as if someone had quickly run through with a torch. Quick enough to burn the grass without setting fire to the whole field. Which was lucky. With the dying grass and little moisture from the drought they were suffering, it wouldn't take much to send the whole fields alight.

Pulling himself away from the charred grass, Vukashin made his way towards the horse. He took the gelding's reins in his hand. A heaviness settled on his stomach as realization struck. The faded silver coat, long mane and tail, this was Stefan's horse, Stargazer.

"Where is your master?" Vukashin questioned, giving the animal a pat. The horse merely looked at him, a lazy look in his eye.

Whistling, Vukashin called over his steed. The black and white stallion trotted towards them, throwing his head in the air. Slinging his bow over his shoulder, Vukashin mounted his horse. He then readjusted his grip on Stargazer's reins and encouraged his horse back to the brook.

"Stefan!" He called out, his eyes constantly scanning his surroundings. A prickle went down his spine. Shivering, Vukashin couldn't help but feel a sense of dread. Something was watching, just as it had when he had filled his canteen a few nights ago. 

Something sinister. 

Bloodthirsty. 

The horses must have sensed it too, as they began nicker. Stargazer planted his hooves firmly in the ground and pulled back. His strength almost caused the reins to be ripped from Vukashin's hands.

"Easy," Vukashin said, trying his best to pull the old gelding closer to him.

Movement through the grass spooked Vukashin's horse. The stallion rose to his hind legs, shrieking. Letting go of Stargazer's reins, Vukashin threw his arms around his stallion's neck, fighting desperately to hold on. His horse bolted, leaving Stargazer to go his own way.

Holding on as tight as he could, he winced as the horse's strong neck and muscles jostled him. The stallion made a mad dash past the brook, heading towards Sir Wellington's manor. A low growl followed by loud hissing, caused his horse to slide to a halt and then immediately change directions. 

Shakily, Vukashin righted himself. Instead of fighting his horse, he pulled the bow from his back and an arrow from the quiver. Knocking one, he tried to focus his attention, not on the fear gnawing at his belly but the moving shadows around him.

Shooting out of the grass, a creature, long and slender with slick greasy hair, opened up its jaws. Vukashin pulled back the string on his bow, relying solely on instincts. The arrow was released. It barely missed as the creature twisted. Another loud hiss sounded from the creature's mouth as it darted back into the grass. Its midnight black fur blended in with the shadows on the ground as if it was a part of them.

Knocking another arrow, Vukashin felt his heart pounding so fast that it was hard to breathe. He could only hear the blood roaring in his ears. Taking in a deep breath, Vukashin felt his muscles tense as he pulled back the string. He watched the darkness, waiting. It seemed like an eternity passed between them before the creature struck out again.

With a release of his breath, the arrow whipped from the bow. It lodged in the creature's wolfish snout. With a horrible scream, the creature curled into itself. Its ribs pressing against its skin and showing through the slick fur. Yellow puss oozed from the wound on its snout and dripped down its jaws.

The creature opened its vibrant yellow eyes, staring Vukashin down. With a rippling growl, the creature sank back into the grass.

Finally, Vukashin gripped onto his horse's reins and pulled back. The stallion gradually came to a halt. Its flank was drenched with sweat and his breathing was heavy. A soft cry escaped Vukashin's lips as his fear finally caught up to his racing heart. He leaned forward on his horse's neck, feeling the quivering muscles underneath him.

His heart stopped again as he saw the creature's eyes gleaming in the darkness beside him. It shot forth from its cover, it's long taloned feet spreading apart.

Not even thinking about it, Vukashin shifted his weight, falling on the other side of his horse. The stallion kicked and then bolted.

Hitting the ground, Vukashin felt the wind go from him. His head was spinning. Any strength he had failed him in the moment. He didn't even had the power to reach for his bow which had falled a few feet from him.

A low growl caused Vukashin to look up, his eyes staring straight into the yellow ones of the demonic creature. Its pupils were long and narrow, like a cat. Its odd bird-like feet were as black as sin, the talons gleaming under the moonlight. It had long bat-like wings, which were currently pressed into its body as it pulled itself towards him. Opening its jaws, it showed off its razor-sharp teeth. Puss dripped into its mouth, mixing with the sticky saliva that coated its teeth and tongue.

Vukashin's stomach did a flip and he felt sick. Pulling the dagger from his boot, he swallowed and forced himself to sit up. This is it for me. And I don't even know what this creature is.

The creature finally leaped forward, its talons throwing up dirt and grass as it came towards him. Vukashin raised his dagger to defend himself, rallying the last bit of courage he had left. If I go down, at least I am taking this creature back to hell with me. 

But death never came. A wall of water whipped around Vukashin and blocked the creature from getting to him. The demon writhed in the water, snapping its jaws and clawing at its watery prison. Nothing it did worked though. The water began to spiral. A gurgling scream erupted from the creature. 

"Get to your horse," Stefan's voice called.

Vukashin, unable to comprehend what was happening, looked around. Stefan was coming towards him, his hands out.

"Move, Vukashin! Move!"

With a nod, the dark knight rose and sprinted away from the creature. Whistling as loud as he could, he searched the grasslands for his horse. The stallion nervously came to him, it's eyes never leaving the creature. Pulling himself up into the saddle, he rode over to Stefan.

The mage was bringing his hands together as if he was trying to crush a melon. The water had turned into a sphere, crushing the demon with its pressure. The creature's yellow eyes were bulging in its head, its body wrapping around itself.

Finally, with a blast, the water sphere broke and the water fell to the ground, along with chunks of the creature's body. Yellow puss along with fur mixed with the water running through the grass.

"I am not sure if there are more of them," Stefan said, looking around. "We need to get back to Marvin and the others."

"What was that thing?" Vukashin demanded.

"It is called an Echo. But I can explain more when we get back to the inn."

Nodding, Vukashin offered Stefan his hand. "I am not sure where your horse bolted off to."

"If I had to guess," Stefan said with a chuckle, allowing Vukashin to pull him into the saddle. "Back to the inn's stables for some hay."

**Author's Note:**

> This is a novel I have been working on since I was in middle school and I decided to revisit it. I had this up before but took it down for revisions. I hope you all enjoy your time venturing through the land of Valente alongside Marvin and the Knights of the Dragon's Keep.


End file.
